


Newton Artemis Fido Scamander: Past, Present, and Future

by Elizabeth_Holmes



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Minor Character Death, Multiple Pairings, Multiple ships, Newdence if you squint, Ratings may change, Warnings Will Change, Young Love, calm down leta, credence doesn't die because no, drabbles based on music, frank goes home, gay pining, holiday fluff, jacob still got obliviated, leta is maybe too sexual, like geez, newt and jacob are so frickin cute, one shots, practicing writing newt, sick!fic, we'll see if we can fix that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth_Holmes/pseuds/Elizabeth_Holmes
Summary: Just some drabbles to practice writing Newt's character. Chapter 27: A Million Dreams (for the World We're Gonna Make)





	1. Christmas with the Scamanders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunar_sol_42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar_sol_42/gifts), [jlcamp09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlcamp09/gifts), [Wldwmn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wldwmn/gifts), [Darkwood_Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwood_Princess/gifts), [Waistcoat35](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waistcoat35/gifts), [wildeisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildeisms/gifts), [DLasagne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLasagne/gifts).



> This ended up being way longer and sadder than I meant it to be. I'll try to make a happy Christmas drabble later. Inspired by: Deck the Halls - Percy Faith and His Orchestra

Christmas at the Scamander family residence had always been an important affair.

 The house was enormous and had at least four large and fully decorated trees. It had originally just been the one, great oversized thing in the main parlor. Then Newt had been born, and as he’d grown older, he had complained once or twice about how he wasn’t allowed to do as much to decorate the tree as his older brother, Theseus. His mother’s solution had been quite simple: another tree.

Then Katrina was born and it became a tradition. Each child of the Scamander family had their own tree. Margret didn’t make it past the age of eight, but her tree still stood tall each year. In fact, one might say that her tree was given the most care and attention when being decorated. Now that the children were grown and most often not home for the holidays, or else, only there for the day of, the task of decorating had been passed to the family’s resident house elves, Molly and Wonby.

Newt was now standing in the grand foyer looking up at Margret’s tree. It was the first thing that one would see on entering the house. Newt had told the family he would be home for the entire holiday season, and had offered to help Molly and Wonby decorate. Normally, house elves would be offended by the masters or mistresses of the house wanting to participate in chores. This wasn’t quite a chore though, was it?

 _“No”_ Newt thought, hanging the last ornament by hand. Margret’s tree, like Margret herself, would never be a chore, even if Theseus said differently. She had been a very ill child, had something incurable that Newt could never remember the name or pronouncement of. Christmas had been her favorite, though. The lights and the sugared candies, and the snow: oh how Margret had loved the snow, cherished it even. She’d been so in love with the snow that one year when it was so close to the holiday, and not a flake had fallen, Newt, and Katrina had approached Theseus with an idea. He was the oldest, knew the most. If he couldn’t make it snow for little Margret, who could? So, one afternoon while father had been away on business, Newt and Katrina had brought Theseus a book they had found in their father’s study.

Theseus had been opposed. He was opposed to everything, really though. But Newt and Katrina had begged, cajoled, pleaded, and then eventually pointed to Margret, who was wrapped up warm with a cup of hot chocolate in one hand, staring out the window, waiting, as if she thought that the snow would come at any moment.

The forlorn expression on little Margret’s face had been enough to make Theseus groan and take the book from Newt and Katrina.

“Alright. I’ll have a look at the charm and see if I can manage it. I make no promises, though. I have a lot of school work.” He told them sternly.

The next morning Katrina and Margret rushed into Newt’s room, hand in hand. Margret was beaming and Katrina was smirking. “Big brother! Big brother! There is snow! It is a pitiful amount, but I am sure that it is only the beginning! Come look, come look!” Margret had cried. Newt jumped out of bed, and didn’t even bother donning his house slippers or robe before following his two sisters out into the parlor.

Theseus was sitting by the fire with a cup of tea. He nodded to Newt, Newt nodded back, a tear slipping down one cheek. Margret’s joy was so beautiful and bright, even Theseus would later agree that it had been a worthy cause,

“Even though I had to stay up half the night trying to figure it out.” He’d muttered. Newt always let this comment slip by, knowing that Theseus would not…could not let his hard work go unacknowledged. As if Margret’s joy had been a burden.

He was crying, now, staring up at the tree. He gulped, as if he could swallow the memories back and not think about how badly it had hurt; the loss of such a light. The family had tried to move past it, but they never really could. In fact, the year after Margret passed there had almost been no trees. No decorations, not even a sprig of holly.

But Mrs. Scamander would not have her husband’s pain dull the season. “This is not what Margret would have wanted, love, and I won’t have it. I simply will not have it.” And just like that, Mr. Scamander had agreed. In the years to follow, the glimmer of the holidays would shine brighter in that house than they ever had before. Rather than mourning the loss of Margret during Christmas, they would celebrate her life.

Newt wiped away a tear that had managed to escape, and chuckled. He sniffled a bit, but looked up when he heard a voice.

“Wow Newt. That’s one big Christmas tree.” It was Tina.

“Tina.” He smiled. “I’m so glad you could come…what about Queenie?” he looked a little dismayed when he noted that the younger Goldstein sister was not there as well.

“Oh, oh gosh. Yeah. I was going to tell you about that. I kind of wanted it to be a surprise, though.” Tina chuckled. “Jacob got his memories back. An early Christmas present from Queenie, though, she swears she had nothing to do with it and he must have just remembered because “he’s such a bright one, that Jacob!” Anyway, they uh. Tina decided to stay home. It’s their first Christmas together, ya know?” Tina stopped talking for a momentand beganing very slowly walking towards Newt.

“You’re not disappointed; it’s just me, are ya, Newt?”

Newt’s mouth fell open. “What, what? No. No. Tina I- Tina it could never be “just” you. I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Why are you crying then?” Tina finished walking and was at his side.

“I’m- I’m not…This tree, is what it is. Just this tree.”

Tina wiped at a tear that was falling down Newt’s face. “It’s pretty big Newt, what’s wrong with it?” she wasn’t trying to be insensitive, but…

The tears rolling down Newt’s face came faster. “It’s Margret’s.” he said simply.

“Whos Margret?” Tina asked.

Newt snorted, “My sister.”

“Oh, I. I’m sorry Newt, you only ever mentioned a Katrina, I..”

“Don’t apologize, Tina. I should have talked about her more. It just…it hurts. Shes…she’s quite dead, you see.” And once, she had been so, so alive. It hurt Newt’s heart to think about it.

“Oh, Newt.” Was all Tina said, before she flung her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug.


	2. Leta Lestrange: Ruiner of Aspiring Magizoologists (and Heartbreaker Extrordinare)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt looks back on a past love, and wonders if he'll be capable, in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are ending up really long. Can I still call them drabbles? Enjoy the pain, you frickin' masochists.  
> Inspired by: When We Were Young - The Summer Set

Newt had plenty of time to think on the boat ride back to England. This was maybe not so good, because, at the moment, all he could think about was Leta Lestrange, and his past. And that was something he didn’t really want to think about because somewhere in his heart, he still loved her. Too much, too much. 

But she had changed; she had changed so much, and so had he.

They were first years, and Hufflepuffs, together. A fact that neither of their families could stand. He could remember the first time they’d talked so very clearly. 

“What's wrong?” Newt had asked a crying girl, his first night at Hogwarts.

The girl looked up at him with big green tear filled eyes. It was sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and Newt was nervous, and excited, and sad. He couldn't sleep, so he'd gone into the common room. He'd always been thoughtful, not wanting to wake anyone else with his tossing and turning. 

“I...I shouldn't be here.” The girl managed to sob out. 

Newt nodded sympathetically. “Yes, I suppose homesickness-”

“I am NOT homesick! I don't belong in Hufflepuff!” The crying girl snarled at him.

If he hadn't been acquainted with dangerous and occasionally violent creatures, he probably would have run scared. But newt knew, from the experience of his 11 years, that frightened, hurting creatures tended to lash out.

“Lets...lets start again.” He held out his hand, “my name is newt Scamander, what's yours?”

“Leta…” the girl sniffled, staring at newts hand for a moment before taking it and shaking it. “Leta lestrange.” 

“It's nice to meet you, Leta. Why are you crying?”

Always sympathetic and over-caring, was Newt. Back in his younger days, even after what he’d been through before school. Back before everything changed, back before he really learned about human nature. He could have cried at the memory. 

“I don't belong in Hufflepuff.” She had said. Their hands were still clasped together, and she was staring down at them. So was newt. Then, at the exact same moment, they both looked into each other's eyes. Newt felt like this girl could see into his soul. Unbeknownst to him, she thought the same thing about him. They dropped their hands at the same time. 

“Why do you say that?” Newt asked. “Doesn’t the lore go, that Helga Hufflepuff would accept anyone into her house, because she didn’t care about wit or bravery or blood status?”

“Didn’t you hear me, I’m a Lestrange!”

Newt bit his lip, “I’m...I’m sorry, is that supposed to mean something?”

Leta stared at him incredulously. “My family is very well known.” she sniffed, perhaps a bit haughtily. 

Newt shrugged. “So is mine. Or that's what I’ve been told, anyway. Whats that got to do with Hufflepuff?” 

 

“You’re a Scamander. You should get it. How do you not get it?”

 

“Get what?” Newt asked, a little concerned about what this girl might have heard about his family. 

“Aren’t you guys all Ravenclaws?”

“Occasionally Gryffindors.” Newt added.

  
“So???”

“So...what?” Newt was really confused now.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get a howler or something? Because you didn’t get sorted into the right house?” 

Newt’s expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose, I would. Only, my father would probably try. Maybe. But there’s no way he’d get that past my mother. She’d be very likely to put him in the intensive-care unit at St. Mungos.” he turned back to her. “Why? Do you think you’ll get a howler?” 

“Yes.” she stared at him, deadpan. 

He stared right back. “Why?”   


“Because I’m supposed to be in Slytherin. Not a single member of my family has ever been anything but Slytherin.” 

“Oh.” Newt turned thoughtful again. “But that doesn’t really matter, does it? They’re your family. Besides, if tradition is never broken, things can get quite boring, can’t they?” he was smiling. 

“You’re an idiot.” she told him. “But I like you. You’re refreshingly naive.” Leta tilted her head to one side, looking at him as if she could see something very interesting. 

Newt snorted. “And you’re rather blunt. Tell me: is this how you make friends?” it was a genuine question. “Your tactics are quite confusing.”

“Lestranges don’t tend to do well making friends. We have...lackies. Or equals. Not usually equals, though.”

  
“I can see why.” Newt told her solemnly. 

Now it was Leta’s turn to snort. “Oh come off it. I bet you’ve been called worse.” she sneered. 

Newt could feel himself slipping back into his shell. He looked away from her. “Yes...I...yes.” he gulped, eyes watering a bit.

“What’s the worst?” Leta Lestrange asked, leaning possibly very much definitely too close to him. 

“Annoying.” he said softly. Tears spilled softly from his eyes.

“Hey! You don’t get to cry! I was the one crying!”

“Yes, well you seem to have gotten over that quite quickly.” Newt said, his voice growing even more quietly. He swiped at his eyes and leaned back on, starting to get up. She grabbed at his wrist.

  
“Hey. Look. Look. I said. I said that Lestrange’s weren’t good at making friends. But I’m thinking. I’m thinking that since they’re also never Hufflepuffs. Maybe I could be different. I think. I think you’re pretty neat. We should. I mean. I’m not gonna be good at it, you know. But maybe someday, I could be someone you say is a good friend.” 

Newt was fairly certain this was what whiplash felt like. 

“And I…..You know what we are good at? Lestrange’s, I mean. We’re good at protecting the people we care about. And I. I would NEVER call you annoying. I don’t think I could ever find you annoying.” 

“You don’t know me, very well, I’m afraid, Ms. Lestrange.” Newt informed her. 

“Obviously.” she rolled her eyes, exasperated. “So tell me about you. Tell me….tell me about the time somebody called you annoying.” 

Newt bit his lip, “What, you mean, the  _ first _ time? Or the most recent, or-”

“Let’s start with the first one.” Leta suggested.

They had talked the rest of the morning. They’d almost missed breakfast, actually. By the end of the first term, Newt was positive that this was what being in love felt like. 

But that was back then. Newt let out a long sigh. Leta was never all that good at keeping promises. 

For six years, the friendship blossomed. 

Leta came back from Winter Holiday that first year, and the first thing she did was wrap her arms around Newt and cry. He’d learned not to ask, but to wait, and she would tell him. And she did. Her family was so angry. So so angry. They had done everything in their power (which Newt had learned was far-reaching and too strong) to get Leta switched into Slytherin house. They’d even tried to convince the headmaster to put the hat back on her head and resort her.    
  


“Anything but Hufflepuff,” they had said. “Even goodie goodie Gryffindor would be better.” they’d argued. 

But, contacts at the ministry don’t change the headmaster of Hogwarts mind on traditions, it seemed. 

Very close to the beginning of third year, their families had met in Diagon Alley. Newt had met Leta’s older sister. He decided he did not like her. 

Fourth year, it was made very apparent that Newt’s original assessment of Leta’s family was right. But he’d underestimated their cruelty. They always had a train car to themselves. Not that they didn’t have friends….or more accurately, not that Newt didn’t have other friends.  But it had been decided that they would always have those first few hours to catch up, privately. And so, when they went to change into their school things, backs turned on one another, Newt had seen it. He’d accidently turned around for a moment, to ask a question. The scars along Leta’s back were so very very plain to see. He hadn’t meant to see them. But he had. 

And being the caring, sensitive boy he was, and so very in love with Leta by now that it hurt, he’d asked, then apologized for seeing, then asked again. And she’d told him. 

After that, whenever they were together and one of Leta’s family members came near them in the halls, or in the great hall, he would hiss, or growl, and wrap one arm protectively around her. Newt always protected helpless creatures, and how he felt about Leta, though different, was still at that level. 

Back when he’d wanted to make her feel safe, and loved. Back when he’d tried to fix what should have never occured in this dear girl’s life. 

Fifth year, it turned out, she liked Newt as much as he liked her, in the very same ways. Possibly more even, it would later be said. She’d flung herself at him at platform 9 and ¾. Wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him so deeply he thought she might be trying to steal his breath. She hadn’t even cared that her family was watching. Or perhaps she was using him as something to anger her family. Newt’s mother grinned like an idiot. His sister had given him a thumbs up, then broken into uncontrollable giggles. 

Newt became a target for curses and hexes that year at school. For the first month or so, anyway, until Leta had had enough of every Slytherin hexing him in the hall. She did something Newt had never expected. She went to the head master and told him about every single incident she had witnessed, and some she hadn’t, that he’d only told her about.

Newt hadn’t known that until after he’d been expelled. He hadn’t even connected the dots between his attacks, and his frequent hand holding and snogging of Leta Lestrange. 

Halfway through sixth year, though. Everything had fallen to pieces. And she had taken the fall for him so many times. One more incident, the head-master had told her at the beginning of the year, and she would be expelled. And this was such a large incident. Newt feared that if she went home, disgraced as it would have made her, the love of his life might actually be killed by her horrible family. 

So he took the fall. And as such, it was he, not Leta, that had been expelled. His father had yelled at him. His mother had comforted him. “Plenty you can do with your life, without graduating that stupid school.” she’d told him. 

Theseus had cornered him less than a week later, coming home from a work trip early. “How could you throw your life away for that! That lasted Lestrange girl?” he’d asked. It was the only time he’d seen Theseus cry, since Margret’s death. Katrina told him to lay off of Newt, but it seemed she’d felt the same, only was less vocal.

Still, when Leta never wrote him back, ignored him in the streets of Diagon Alley, told him to his face that he was worthless and annoying and naive and stupid when he’d gone by her family home before her seventh year, Katrina never once said a word about it. She comforted her brother by listening and holding him while he cried. 

  
Now, though. Now. Maybe Tina could be different. The way she talked to him. Maybe it could be different. He sighed, and laid down on his cabin bed to sleep.    
  
When he awoke, he went down into his case to check his lovely creatures. Once everyone was fed, he sat down at his desk and began to compose a letter to his sister, and smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? How much do you hate me? Sorry about the weird spacing, the formatting program on here hates me.


	3. Golden Days - 1912

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta and Newt go to the School Ball. 5th Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave you a chapter about Leta breaking Newt's heart. Here's a year or so before that happened. 
> 
> Golden Days - Panic! At The Disco

\----1912----  
Fifth Year

“Merlin’s right testicle.” Leta Lestrange exhaled harshly as Newt walked into the common room.

Newt’s eyes were immediately wild with worry. “What? What did I do? Is it my hair, does it look bad? I can change if you hate the outfit I…I know bow ties aren’t exactly ‘in’ but I really like how they look and-” Newt never had the chance to finish that sentence. Leta pulled him forward by the lapels and kissed him deeply.

Newt blinked like he’d been hit with a daze-ment jinx. He giggled and smiled like a fool. He sighed with happiness as Leta grabbed his hand and began leading him out of the common room towards the great hall.

“You look great. Your hair is absolutely wonderful in every way, and holy bollox, you smell like something I want to eat, and Newt, sweetie, I mean that in the most sexual way possible.” Leta said, not looking at him as she dragged him along.

“Oh, Leta, geez, I…” Newt laughed nervously, tugging at his collar, feeling very suddenly like he was being choked. “It’s suddenly very warm, all of a sudden; did you feel it get warmer? Is there something that’s the opposite of a dementor, because I think if there is, we might have one on our hands at the moment- it’s either that or I’ve got some sort of fever, maybe we should just, maybe I should go have a short lie down, shall I-“

They were in a corridor that was practically the opposite of empty. Newt couldn’t remember the word for that, all of a sudden.

Leta Elfrinda Lestrange suddenly had him up against the wall anyway, though. She was licking her lips and staring at him with a very hungry expression. Newt chewed on his lip, eyes wide.

“If you’re hungry, we should probably get to the ball, I’ve…I’ve heard that the snacks are going to be really top notch. The house elves have probably out done themselves.”

“Anybody ever tell you, you blather on like a fool when you’re nervous?” Leta asked him, staring up at him through her eye lashes and sucking on her bottom lip.

“Yes, actually. Professor Dumbledore has mentioned it. So has my father. And Theseus. Margret used to find it very funny, too. I think you said something about it first year as well. I guess its something I should probably work onnnnwhat are you doing LetaREMOVEYOURHANDATONCE!!!”

Leta laughed a shrill girlish laugh as she removed her hand, “Wow, I think you hit soprano just there, loverboy.”

She looked down and dragged her tongue along the edges of her perfect white teeth, then looked back up at him. “I’m surprised you can, uh, do that, and this.” She was grinning at him, staring up into his eyes as she poked him someplace that he wanted to appreciate but really really could not at the exact moment especially because Professor Dumbledore was staring at him from the other side of the hallway as other students walked past.

“Dumbledore,” he managed to croak out.

“Is that your safe word?” Leta asked, still pinning Newt to the wall with her eyes. “I mean, I can understand that I guess, the old codger would certainly kill my mood.”

“Good evening Ms. Lestrange. Mr. Scamander.” Dumbledore said, directly behind Leta.

Her eyes went wide. He coughed. “Hello, professor.” Newt managed to breathe out. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified.

“I don’t recall seeing you at lunch, Ms. Lestrange. You must be quite famished. You may very well want to get along to the ball now, before the other students devour the scrumptious snacks laid out by the house elves.”

Leta nods in agreement, taking Newt’s hand. “Of course professor. Thanks for the advice.” She beams. The look is terrifying. She obviously does not mean it. Newt can’t help but wonder what level her anger might be at, now.

Leta pulled Newt along very quickly. When he finally got a look at her face, she was pouting. Newt’s heart broke. “What’s wrong, no, no, don’t look so forlorn, beauty. Oh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he’s afraid she might cry, and then they’ll both be a mess; he hasn’t seen Leta cry in ages. The idea of that makes his eyes prick and he gulps hard, as if he’s trying to swallow his adam’s apple.

“I just. You look so debonair tonight, Newt. So handsome and wonderful and delicious and…this school is so uptight. I just want…I really just want to fuck you. So bad.” Ah. They were back on that. Newt’s jaw worked. He didn’t know what to say. She was staring at him, now, like she expected him to say something back.

She pulled her hand away slightly, casting her eyes downward. “I mean, if that’s not something you want, I understand-”

Newt couldn’t think straight now. Bollox. Now Leta thought he didn’t like her, didn’t she? Kneazle nads, how was he going to put this right? New took several deep breathes, then inhaled again.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. Professor Dumbledore isn’t going to let us out of his sight again tonight, is he?” it was a non-answer, really. Something he was getting a bit better at.  
She looked up at him. “Well, you’re right about that. You wanna dance?” she asked, smiling again, like she had thoughts in her head that would kill Newt. But nothing would happen tonight, he knew that, so he put those thoughts aside.

“Only if I can dance with the most beautiful lovely girl in the whole school.” He told her, staring down at her lovingly.

Leta made a face. Merlin, what had he done now? What could he have possibly done. “I think my sister decided not to come. She thinks dances are lame.”

Newt gaped at her, horrified. Leta kept a serious, thoughtful look on her face for a good ten seconds, but, that was all she could manage before she burst out laughing.

“Oh Newt. Newt you should see your face. Oh Merlin, it’s priceless. I was kidding. I was so obviously kidding, you silly little boy. Dance with me. Dance with me like it’s the last night of our lives, I love you so much, you silly thing.” Newt exhaled.

Then he laughed. After that, he took Leta Lestrange by the hand and led her to the dancefloor, a look of wonder in his eyes. He couldn’t think of what he’d done to deserve someone so beautiful and full of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take this moment to plug my other fic-in-progress, Lopegigrus Lepusalopus Ineptus, which was actually the reason I started writing practice drabbles in the first place. Check it out, it already has 3 chapters and I'm working on the 4th right now!


	4. Of Parties and Bakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Large extravagant parties drive Newt mad. His usual kindness is replaced by frustration and perhaps a bit of bitterness. Katrina steps in, as only a little sister can.  
> Honey I'm Good - Andy Grammar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh so you thought I only shipped the straight ships? Nope nope nope. This is going to have a tad bit of pining in it. Newt may be a little out of character, but hey, who isn't, when they're drunk?

Newt groaned as he approached the bar. He had been at this family party for far too long. If it had simply been family, maybe he could have handled it better. But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Now that Newt had a best-selling book, his father had welcomed him home with open arms. (Not that he would have ever dared deny Newt entrance to his childhood home. Mrs. Scamander guaranteed that.) But, Newt’s idea of open arms, and his father’s idea, were two very, very different things.

  
And of course Theseus had gotten involved and then things **_really_** went downhill. There were too many people here, and Newt felt exposed and uncomfortable, naked even. He was dressed to the nines in a perfectly tailored set of dress-robes. The collar was too tight, so were the pants. He felt like he was choking.

The evening had consisted of Newt meeting different eligible women.

“Eleanor Sinclair, Newton. She’s come all the way from America just to meet you.”

“I just love your book Mr. Scamander. I’ve read it a hundred times!” Newt knew it wasn’t fair to quiz her. She was using hyperbole. Newt asked anyway.

“What’s your favorite creature, Ms. Sinclaire?” he asked.

“Huh?"

“Your favorite beast. You must have one, if you’ve read my book a hundred times.”

“Oh. I, uh. I mean- gosh, Mr. Scamander, I don’t quite know. They’re all so…fantastic!”

Newt nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Tell me one difference between a Hungarian Horntail and a Hebridean Black.” He said, not missing a beat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak. She closed it. She opened it, smiling brightly, “Well, of course, Mr. Scamander. They’re different colors!” she giggled, pleased with herself.

“No. They’re both black. Have a good evening Ms. Sinclaire.” Newt walked away without another word to her.

Similar conversations happened at least nine other times throughout the evening. After the second such conversation he started taking a shot of fire whiskey for each one.

“Newt you’re oh so debonair tonight.” One dark haired girl said, staring up at him with big brown eyes. She had both her elbows on a table and was leaning forward quite heavily, displaying her chest area a bit more than was probably needed, or generally considered polite.

Newt squinted at her. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” he asked, genuinely feeling a bit bad for not remembering her. 

“Of course, silly!” she swatted his arm playfully. “We were in the same year at Hogwarts. I was a Ravenclaw. Tilly Tandy.”

Newt’s expression grew thoughtful. A house elf with a tray of drinks passed by and he picked one up, then went back to looking at her, squinting still.

“I remember you, now.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” Tilly Tandy was beaming.

“Yes, didn’t you call me a freak 3rd year? It was…don’t tell me, I’ll remember…right! Didn’t you tell me I was an insufferable know-it-all freak and no one would ever want to be my friend? Because I corrected you in Care of Magical Creatures?”

Her mouth fell open. “I mean. We. We were just kids.”

Newt rested his cheek on one hand as he listened to her try to excuse away her behavior. She didn’t even try to apologize once. Newt downed the drink in one go, and looked up at her, still smiling. He tapped his cheek repeatedly, as if deep in thought.

 “Ms. Tandy, I’m afraid I have to go mingle with more vexing women that are only pretending to be interested in me. I’ve given you your fair shot, now, if you’ll excuse me…” and he smiled at her, nodding his head, before walking away.

And so here he was now, sitting at the splendorous bar in one corner of the room, nursing some god awful concoction that he really didn’t want to drink, but that helped him to not think about what a disaster he felt like.

“You’re looking quite dashing tonight.” A pretty little ginger-haired woman sat down at the barstool next to Newt.

He snorted, swiveling in his seat to look at the intruder on his rest. “And you look as though you’re all grown up. That must really be killing father. And Theseus. I’m surprised either one of them has the time to bring me more terrible women, when they’re both terrified of what might befall the last Scamander sister.”

Katrina smiled at her brother. “Why do you think you’ve managed the last ten minutes at this bar without a single woman approaching you? Newt. They’re terrified of you.”

 “Terrified?” Newt raised a slightly tipsy eyebrow at this.

“Some of the women have been congregating in little groups. They’re calling you…Newt, brother mine, you’re not going to believe this – they’re calling you mean.” Katrina looked aghast.

Newt shook his head, laughing. “Me? Mean? I’m the mean one.” He sipped at his drink. “Katrina – sister mine– I don’t think I’ve met a single solitary woman tonight that actual cares about the contents of my book- or the contents of my character, for that matter. They’re all here because Newton Artemis Fido Scamander is no longer a disgrace to the family name, which makes him a very eligible bachelor, one, might I add, with loaded pockets and an even more well endowed father. The fact, though, Tri-” Tri was his pet name for his sister.

“The fact of the matter is that I’m not interested in any of them either. And I don’t really consider myself an eligible bachelor either.”

“Married to your work, Newt?” Katrina asked, though it sounded more like an accusation. It was something their mother used to say to their father, when they were having particularly heated arguments.

“I wish it were that simple, Katrina. I really, really do.” Newt shook his head and blinked several times, trying to clear his head.

Katrina looked confused for a moment, then her eyes narrowed on her brother. “Newt. Newton. Look at me right now- right here in my face, blast it-”

Newt looked Katrina in the eye. “Yes, Tri?” he asked.

“You’ve met someone, haven’t you?” she hissed through her teeth.

“What? No. No. No, that’s absurd, Tri, I-”

“What’s his name?” she asked, grinning at her brother like an idiot.

Newt gave her a very confused look, “ ‘m sorry, what? His name? What are you even going on about-”

“Come off it Newt. Yeah, you loved Leta Lestrange, but I saw you that night before the ball your fifth year. Any kind of sexual…anything – from Leta, made you incredibly uncomfortable. So you’re either aces, or, you prefer yourself a nice gentleman. And I just want to know his name, Newt. I’m your sister. Come on.”

“I’ve not the foggiest idea what you’re going on about, Katrina, I- the female sex is a marvel to me and I-”

“You’re an awful liar, big brother. You’re even worse when you’re drunk. Come onnnn. Come on. What’s his name at least give me just that please please please?”

“Jacob.” He said, very much under his breath.

“What was that?” Katrina asked.

Newt groaned and put his head in his hands, “I said his name was Jacob.”

Katrina looked concerned. “Was? What do you mean _was_? What did you do? Aw Newt. Newt, was he straight?”

Newt took a swig of his drink, feeling as though he’d rather be anywhere but where he was now. Even dancing with one of the obnoxious women here tonight. “I don’t know, Katrina. It doesn’t matter.”

“Why is that, Newt? Huh? You know half the reason Father and Theseus are throwing this party is to prove a point. They have a bet, going-“

“What kind of a bet-” Newt made a disgusted sound.

Katrina shook her head, “I won’t bore you with the details. Why doesn’t it matter, though, about this Jacob guy, huh?”

Newt rested his head on the bar and stared at his sister. “He’s a muggle, and he’s definitely been very much obliviated. So. I suppose I should go and find some conventionally attractive female and sweep her off her feet, now, to please the family.” He began to push himself up.

“NUH. Stay. There. You don’t just get to blow my mind like that and walk away.”

“Katrina, really, I don’t think now is the time-”

“Why in the name of Merlin, did you obliviate this man that you’re so clearly head over heels for?”

“I didn’t, exactly. It’s complicated-”

“Tell me about him, Newt.”

Newt let out a sigh of spectacular proportions.

“He is very handsome, and funny. He’s kind and finds me interesting –genuinely interesting, mind you. Not like this false interest all these women have been giving out-”

“Then why would you obliviate him, you great big fool!” Katrina was seething by this point.

“He chose it himself, if you want the honest truth.” Newt told her sadly. “Selfless, too. Did I mention he was selfless? He’s a baker. Wants to open up a bakery because he wants to make people lives better.”

“He sounds like just your type, Newton. Why did he want to be obliviated?”

“Thought it would be better for everyone involved…it was what M.A.C.U.S.A. wanted, anyway. He didn’t want to cause anyone any trouble, that’s what Queenie said-”

“Wait, hold it. Who is Queenie?”

“A legimens I met in New York. It’s worth mentioning that she liked Jacob quite a bit, so even if he hadn’t been obliviated…”

“You don’t know that, Newt.”

“He’s a man, Katrina.”

“So are you, Newt, in case you forgot that fact.”

“So kind of you to remind me, Tri.” Newt puffed. He went to take another gulp of his drink. He found it was gone.

“The party is dying down, Newt. You’re drunk. You’re in no state argue with me, because I will win. So I’m going to give you a fighting chance and tell you to duck out now; go to bed. Go to bed, maybe grab a glass of water on the way. We can talk all about Jacob tomorrow. It’s obvious you’re not over him. Not only is it not fair to you, it isn’t fair to the women here either. So go to bed. Rest your eyes. Dream of pleasant things. I’ll cover for you with Father and Theseus. And we’ll leave this conversation for another day.”

Newt sighed, nodded, and stood up. Katrina had always been the best at calming him and talking him down with logic. Not that fake logic that Theseus liked to use. No, the real thing.

Newt hadn’t noticed until he was upstairs, looking in the bathroom mirror, that he had been crying. He was still crying, in fact. He shook his head, trying to shake off more than just the buzz of alcohol. He wish he could shake off the thoughts of Jacob that lingered in his head.

Newt went to bed and dreamed of days spent in a bakery and a familiar warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could have been better but I don't have the emotional energy to rewrite it. More Jacob/Newt in the future. Hopefully, with more cheer.


	5. Baby It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is back in New York. Tina brings champagne. Things get...personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO! First things first my lovely lovely readers, lets get some unpleasantness out of the way.
> 
> Anon, could you please be more specific as to how I was misleading readers at all? This is a genuine question I have. Did I mis-tag things? I suppose I should have made this more clear: These stories don't follow any particular time line or order. Newt could be in love with Tina in one chapter or in love with Jacob the next. If that bothers you, that is your problem, not mine. Maybe I would be more bothered by your other comment about how it was a waste of your time to read if it weren't for the fact that I have over a thousand views in two days and no one else is complaining. Either way I'm so so sorry that something wasn't to your taste. I hope that you don't have an account on here, because if you do, it was pretty cowardly of you to hide behind an anonymous comment.
> 
> Anywho! I've finished my first request, isn't that great!? 
> 
> Darkwood_Princess asked for something to the tune of "Baby It's Cold Outside" so that's what this is. Genuinely curious, Darkwood, and I gotta ask because I have anxiety, you're not that grumpy anon, are you? Cause if you are, oops. Just filled your request. Anyway, friendo, I did my best and I hope you enjoy this little peak at Newt and Tina. I tried to follow the message of the song. <3 <3 <3

December 1927

 

Newt had a hotel room the second time he came to New York. He was a best selling author now, so not only could he afford it, but his editor had also insisted.

 

“We’ll cover the costs, Newton. You’re there on business anyway, for that book signing at Cicero and Jorkins.”

 

“I already have accommodations-” Newt had tried to argue. 

 

“You’re not sleeping in your suitcase, Newton.” his editor, Kurt Sprout had told him sharply. Kurt had this really annoying tendency to use Newt’s full name. 

 

“But-”

  
  
“Actually, you know what? You can sleep in your suitcase. But your suitcase will be safely tucked into your hotel room. Newton, stop looking at me like that. I’m your editor, I care about you.”

 

“Fine.” Newt had huffed. 

 

“Good, and hey, before you go getting any ideas, I’ll know if you don’t check in.” 

 

“Yes Kurt, I understand.”

 

Kurt nodded. “See you when you get back, mate. Try not to raise to much hell?”

 

“No promises.” and Newt had gotten on the boat. 

 

\------------

 

The knock at his hotel room door was unexpected. He opened it just a smidge and looked out. “Tina!” he said, suddenly flinging the door open the rest of the way. 

 

“Hi Newt.” Tina said, smiling. She was holding a bottle of champagne and looking extremely nervous.  “I uh- I was. I heard you were in town.” 

 

“Yes- a book signing- I was going to write to let you know, but it was very last minute...I thought I’d come see you tomorrow…” He wasn’t even fibbing. He had been thinking about when might be the best time to drop by and see her.

 

“Oh. Sorry, I shouldn’t have thought- I really wasn’t sure how busy you’d be- I’d heard about the book signing from Graves…” 

 

“How is he doing?” Newt asked. 

 

“Better. Grindelwald really did a number on him but he’s a strong wizard so he’s back to business.” 

 

“That’s good. I’m so glad.” Newt said, closing the door behind Tina. “Er...shall I take your coat?” he offered. 

 

“Oh I uh, yeah. Thanks.” Tina was taking her coat off, but Newt was behind her helping her before she could finish. He hung her coat up in the closet, then turned back to Tina. His eyes widened a bit. She was wearing a dress that looked like she was swathed in stars. 

 

Tina wasn’t paying any attention to him. “I didn’t really take you for a fancy hotel kind of man-” she was looking around the ridiculously splendorous hotel room.    
  
“I’m- er. I’m not. My editor insisted.” Newt breathed in and out slowly.

 

Tina was quite a picture tonight, but when she turned to look at him, with her face, that was when Newt really started to struggle. He’d forgotten how infinitesimally lovely her eyes were. His hand was up at his face and he was biting down on a knuckle. 

 

“Newt? You okay?” Tina asked. 

 

Newt snapped out of his trance. “I. Uh. Yes. Yes. Well. Whats- whats the bottle for?” he asked, gesturing at the bottle in her hand. 

 

“Oh. Champagne. I thought, maybe you’d like to celebrate your book being published?” 

 

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I don’t see why not.” He looked around the room. He’d seen glasses when he’d come in, hadn’t he? Oh. Yes. There they were. 

 

“Wow this room has everything.” Tina was saying. She handed Newt the bottle of champagne. “Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” she asked.

 

“Oh, no, of course not. Have at it.” he told her. Tina began fiddling with the dial while Newt poured two glasses of champagne. He walked to her side with the two glasses just as she began to straighten up. A soft tune was playing. She turned and smiled and took the glass from him. 

 

“To you, Newt Scamander, and you’re wonderful book.” They clinked glasses lightly.

 

“So, you've heard all about me, what's new with you, Tina?” Newt asked this as if they didn't frequently exchange letters. 

 

“Well, since you asked...I was very recently promoted. I'm a senior auror now.” She told him. 

 

“That's wonderful! I'm so glad you're getting to do the work you love Tina. You've worked so hard, I- I could not be prouder of you.” 

 

Tina beamed. They moved to sit in the window seat that overlooked the city. 

 

“The work is good. The pay is...better. Queenie and I are looking at some nicer apartments, actually.” 

 

“Well, that sounds exciting.” Newt sipped at his glass, staring out. 

 

Tina followed his gaze, “Oh wow. It's really coming down out there isn't it?” The snow was falling fast and thick as the moon came up. 

 

“It certainly is.” Newt agreed. 

 

“Is it anything like this in London?” Tina asked. Newt looked over at her. 

 

“A bit, I suppose. Our buildings aren't as tall, so getting a view like this is almost impossible. The last time I saw snow this...from this high up, was back in my days at Hogwarts.” 

 

Tina reached for his free AND and grasped it gently with her own. She squeezed it for a moment. 

 

“Do you mind if I ask...what got you expelled?” Newt dropped Tina’s hand.

 

He blinked at her owlishly. “What, you didn't read my file?” He asked, bewildered.

 

“No, of course not! I didn't- I didn't think it would be right. We're friends after all, aren't we?”

 

That was right. They were friends. Newt thought back to the last time he'd had friends without feathers and fur. Tina was staring down into her champagne glass.

 

“Yes.” Newt said decidedly. “We are most definitely friends.” He bit his lip in thought. 

 

“You don't have to tell me-” Tina was saying suddenly, worry evident in her eyes. “I didn't mean to overstep-”

 

“It's fine, Tina. Really, it is alright. Well, it was like Graves- like Grindelwald said, endangering human life with a beast.” 

 

“There has to be more than that to it, Newt.” 

 

“Yes, well. It was...a long time ago, Tina. I was.” to be honest or to lie? No, no. He couldn’t lie to Tina.

 

“I was in love, once. Things change but... It was me or Leta. One of us could survive expulsion. One of us couldn’t. So I took the fall.” 

 

“What happened?” Tina asked. 

 

Newt bit his lip. “Leta thought it would be very funny to release several doxies into the Slytherin common room.” he told her. 

 

Tina gaped. “Hold on. Hold on. I learned about doxies in school. Aren’t they dangerous?”

 

“Yes, they are. Anyway that’s really all there is to it.” 

 

“Okay.” Tina nodded, acknowledging that Newt didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

 

She set her glass down and moved across the room to the radio, and started twisting the dial again. Something jaunty and Christmas-y began to play. Tina began humming along with it. 

 

“You wanna dance?” she asked. 

 

\---------------------

 

Newt wasn’t very good at first, as he had not danced with anyone in years. Porpentina Goldstein quickly helped him to shake the rust off though, as it were. 

 

“I never really took you for the dancing type, Ms. Goldstein.” Newt said when they finished a very quick and light hearted piece. 

 

“Right back at you, Scamander.” Tina shot back playfully. 

 

They had a second glass of champagne each. Newt seemed to be losing some of his inhibitions. 

 

“This is very good.” he told her when they’d both finished their glasses. 

 

“It’s also very gone…” Tina sighed, showing him the bottle. She looked out the window behind him. 

 

Newt turned to look out the window as well. “Oh, well. That’s. That is a bit- much.” 

 

“The first snowfall of the season is always the most intense.” Tina agreed. She looked at her watch. “OH. Oh wow. Is that the time? I really. I think I oughta go, Newt.”

“What? No, we were just- I mean. We were having such a lovely conversation.” Newt wasn’t going to make Tina stay of course, but he didn’t want her going out in that weather. 

 

“Queenie is going to be worried sick. Newt.” she told him, going to get her coat. 

 

“The snow is falling like mad out there- I think Queenie would probably rather you waited- just until the weather died down a bit…” 

 

“I can just apparate, Newt. Really, there’s no need to worry.” Tina bit her lip. She wanted to stay a bit longer.

 

“You’ve had a bit to drink, do you really want to get splinched?” Newt offered, genuinely concerned. 

 

Tina chewed on her lip. “I mean, that’s true. You’re right. I wouldn’t want to get splinched. That would be really awful in this weather, especially. Well... I guess I could try and wait a bit, see if it;ll die down…” 

 

“You could tell me more about Ilvermorny. And I’ll walk you home once it stops snowing, how about that?” Newt offered.

 

Tina’s eyes sparkled. “Alright.” she agreed, smiling.    
  
“I’ll call down and get us some more champagne or something.” Newt offered. 

 

“Since we’re not going to be apparating tonight anyway-” Tina agreed.

 

“We’re fully functioning adults, there’s nothing to worry about.” Newt told her.

 

“Yeah exactly. We’re grown ups. It’s fine, really. Consenting adults having a bit of a drink.” 

 

“Friends who haven't talked in months.” 

 

“It’s been a whole year almost since we saw each-other.” 

 

“Exactly” they said in unison. 

 

A time later, they were curled up sitting together drinking a rich red wine (The hotel didn’t have any of that champagne) and laughing like long lost old friends. 

 

The hours ticked by quickly, and eventually, the two fell asleep in eachother’s arms.    
  


When they woke the next morning, they would both have a lot of explaining to do. Newt would be late for his first book signing. Tina - Tina had never gone home, and her sister wouldn’t stop plying her with questions. They would both have back and neck pain from odd sleeping positions. 

  
For now though, it didn’t matter. They slept peacefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, what a way to wake up in the morning, haha. Two emails telling me I got comments on my story only to find out they're both rude and vague and not even in the realm of constructive criticism. I hope you're all having a better day than I am. <3


	6. Silver Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Jacob take a romantic stroll in the snow through the shopping district.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This chapter is going to include: An established romantic relationship between Jacob and Newt. So if you don’t like homosexual relationships, skip this chapter. <3 I didn’t mean to write so much exposition on the owl and letters and everything, sorry. If you bear with me, I think you’ll really enjoy this.
> 
> This chapter is a request fill for Lunar_Sol_42 - I hope this helps to get you through rare-pair hell and fits the mood of the song you sent me.

Newt’s first Christmas in New York City was going quite well so far. Jacob had taken him to get a real tree, which they had put up and decorated the evening before. They had shared hot chocolate and Christmas memories and even a few slow dances in Jacob’s apartment. Not the old rundown apartment he’d had before, mind you. This one was newer, and nicer, and right above his bakery.

They had talked for months via letters while Newt worked on editing his book in London. It had taken Jacob only a couple of times receiving Newt’s letters from owls for him to become used to it. In fact, Jacob decided that he liked Owl Post a hell of a lot more than he liked regular post. It didn’t take nearly as long to send or receive, and frankly, he trusted the owls more than he did the regular post office. He told Newt this in one particular letter, while also asking how many owls Newt could possibly have, seeing as it was always a different owl delivering his letters.

Newt explained in his response that he used the owl post office, and that was why they were different owls. He didn’t have an owl of his own, he explained. When he was younger he had used the family owls, and after he left home, he never wanted to use the same owl twice in case it could be tracked by his parents. He wouldn’t mind one now, though, and perhaps he should consider getting one, he added in the post script. Did Jacob have any particular preference in type of owl, he asked.

Jacob had met with Queenie later that day and told her that he wanted to get Newt an owl as a gift and where exactly could he find one, and how much would it cost? Was there a way to change no-maj money into wizard money, if there was even a difference? If he gave her the money, would she get it for him? He wasn’t sure if he could even get into any wizarding shops. Queenie had been excited and clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. 

“Jacob, next Sunday, I’ll meet you in front of the bakery at 8:00am sharp and we’ll go to Parnell Street, and get Newt an owl.” 

The following Sunday, Queenie did in fact take Jacob to Parnell street. But it was not the Parnell street that he recognized. It was very magical, to be straightforward. They got a few strange looks from passing witches and wizards, but Queenie had told him to pay no mind. 

“Listen Jacob, this guy is the son of the guy who my grandad used to breed owls with. He’s a family friend, and I don’t think he’ll give us any kind of about the whole not-wizarding thing. Relax” 

Sure enough, Merwyn Fenwick didn’t give them any trouble at all. He was very helpful, actually. He even gave Jacob a discount. In the end, Jacob settled on a Northern Saw-whet owl, who he named Millie. 

He sent her off to Newt with a short attached letter, talking about everything he’d learned about Northern Saw-whet owls, and how he thought that Millie really would be a great companion and very good at delivering letters and how he hoped Newt enjoyed her.

Newt had been hurt at first, because it had been over a week and Jacob had not written him back. He was considering writing him again to apologize for whatever it was he must have said wrong. The next day, however, Millie had shown up with a letter and a small parcel. Newt read the letter and realized it was from Jacob. His heart swelled with pride as he read all of the interesting things that Jacob had to say about Millie’s particular breed and how to care for her. 

The letter was finished with 

“I know she’s small, but she’s quite a capable little lady. I know you’ll take great care of her! Share the enclosed treat with her, but not too much. Mr. Fenwick told me birds aren’t supposed to really eat too much bread.

All my love,  
Jacob.”

Newt opened the parcel and found about a dozen (very fresh!) croissants. He smiled as he broke off a bit of one and offered it to his newest acquisition. He couldn’t be happier. Less than a month later, in October, Jacob had asked Newt if he had any plans for the holiday season, and, if it weren’t too bold of him to ask, would he like to join him for an authentic New York Christmas. Newt had gladly and quickly accepted.

So here they were now, hand in hand strolling down the lane in a busy shopping district. Snow was falling softly and children were running around giggling and throwing snowballs. 

“Whats your favorite part of Christmas, Newt?” Jacob asked as they stopped to glance in one shop window.

Newt was quiet for a moment. Newt thought it was a moment, anyway. But he realized maybe it had been longer when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” Jacob was asking. 

Newt shook his head, “Sorry, I- bit distracted, sorry, love. My favorite part of Christmas? Hm…whats yours?”

“Oh, that’s easy. The cheer. The spirit. People, even people who are normally grumpy or even mean, seem to perk up a bit. Everyone is good to everyone- okay, not everyone. I’m not that naive. But it’s just so warm, even though its freezin’ out. People go out of their way to bring happiness to other people. It makes me feel good, to see it.”

Newt smiled at Jacob. “Your heart is so…big. Jacob, I don’t know what I would have done if you…if you hadn’t remembered.”

“Aw, hey. Shucks. You woulda found somebody just as good, maybe better, Newt. You’re a good guy. You draw goodness to ya. Haven’t you noticed that?” Jacob shook his head and chuckled a bit.

“Yes, I suppose I have. Especially very recently. I…It’s hard sometimes, though. People like to take advantage of kindness.”

Jacob nodded in agreement. “That’s true. But that’s their problem, not yours. Don’t let it getcha down, Newt.” Jacob ruffled Newt’s hair gently and stood on tip toes to kiss Newt’s cheek. They went back to holding hands and walking down the street, in silence, marveling at the beauty of the season. 

After a few minutes of quiet, however, Jacob stopped again, “Hey, you never said.”

“Right.” Newt remembered. He kicked a small stone and looked up at the sky for a moment before continuing. He took a deep breath, then looked over at Jacob, all bundled up in a warm coat, and, at Newt’s insistence, a bright yellow and grey scarf. They began to move forward again, and rounded a corner. 

“Everything, I think.” He said. “Yes, Everything. I like the smell of fresh warm things being baked, and children’s laughter. I love the lights and the ornaments, and how so many people bring green things into their homes. Warm clothes, exchanging presents. Oh, the look on someones face when they open a present that just makes their heart soar, like the person who gave it to them really knows them, so, so well. So intimately that its just perfect. I also enjoy that feeling, of being the person giving the perfect gift. It’s…this season is so lovely and intimate and pure. Family dinners, oh, carolers was are fantastic as well. Snow. The snow is so lovely. It’s….it was my sister’s favorite you know. Margret’s. You should have seen the joy in her eyes, Jacob. She was so pure.” Newt glanced at Jacob, who staring a bit open-mouthed now. 

“What?” Newt looked around, then at himself. “Do I have something in my teeth? Did I say something wrong? What-”

“Just thinkin’ about how beautiful you are, when you’re talkin about stuff you care about.”

“Oh, I…Jacob, you’re quite lovely yourself-”

“Nah. Hey, don’t try to make this one about me, Scamander. You don’t get to rebound compliments like that.” 

“All I’m saying is-” Newt never finished his sentence though. They had stopped moving again and Jacob pulled Newt down to his level for a deep, gentle, loving kiss. When they pulled apart, Newt was very red in the face, and his eyes were alight. 

“Er. Uh. Mistletoe-” Jacob pointed upwards. 

“Right. Yes. Of course.” 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have- we’re in public-” Newt leaned down and kissed Jacob, 

“Hush now. I know you don’t care what people think.” Newt said as he straightened back up. 

It was Jacob’s turn to go scarlet now. 

He coughed and looked away. “Hey, it’s pretty cold out here and the snow is comin’ down pretty hard. You wanna head back, maybe bake some fresh sugar cookies? Or we could read…” 

Newt smiled, clasping his lover’s hand tightly. “I think I would like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, fun fact, I just looked this up while writing- Jacob is actually like...7 inches shorter than Newt? So thats pretty great. I love height differences. 
> 
> As usual, you guys can comment on this with song titles/ships/moods you'd like to see and I'll do my best to fill them! But, if you dont want to comment here, you can always message me on tumblr, anonymous or not: pessimisticbee. I'm supes partial to christmas requests right now, cause seasonal depression is crushing my soul. Also, thank you for all the great comments, and help with my tagging errors!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this fluffy adorable bit.


	7. Letter of Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt write a letter to tell his parents he's leaving, shortly after coming home when he is expelled from Hogwarts. It takes some time to find the right words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh you guys are blowing up my email with all the comments and kudos! Looooooove it! I hope you guys like this (slightly) shorter chapter. The next one I'm working on is is already 2840 words and I'm not seeing where the end point is yet. It's going to be an AU (or I guess, speculative?) piece where Credence doesn't die because omg he didn't deserve that wtf. For now, enjoy watching Newt struggle to compose this letter. 
> 
> Song:   
> It's Your Life - Francesca Battistelli

_Dearest Mother and Father,_

_~~I think we all need some time to breath.~~ _

Newt scratches that out. That would imply that this is not solely his fault.

_~~I’m sorry.~~ _

No. That's wrong as well. He won't lie to them, he decides. He is not sorry that he saved Leta Lestrange from a fate possibly worse than death.

_~~I think I'm going to take some time to sort~~ _

Sort what, he thinks. There isn't anything to sort. Newt knows his purpose. He is not entirely sure where he's going to start, but he knows where he wants to end up. Well, the area of the end point, anyway, he supposes. Maybe he doesn’t even know that; maybe he just knows that he has to go. No…Yes. Yes. Newt knows that he can’t stay in this oversized estate for the rest of his life.

While he would love to spend infinite hours with his mother and her fancy hippogriffs, he knows, somehow, that is not what he’s meant to do. And even if it was, his father wouldn’t have it. Mr. Scamander Sr. was, in fact, already trying to re-plot his son’s life.

“It’s just a setback Newton. Yes. Yes, graduating from Hogwarts would have looked good. But no matter…You’re still a Scamander. We’ll figure this out.”

Newt knew that his father’s way of “figuring this out” would be getting him a job somewhere where he was shut up in-doors all day every day. His father would get him some sort of desk job at the ministry, or Gringotts and Newt would spend the rest of his life filling out mind-numbingly boring paper work and being the dutiful son.

There were other options, though. After all, the elder Mr. Scamander already had one dutiful son, and if Katrina’s school reports were any kind of indication of her future, he had a dutiful daughter as well.

Newt couldn’t make himself do it. So here he was, in the middle of the night, trying to write a goodbye to his mother and his father before stealing away into the night.

He could just scrap the letter, climb back into bed, and forget all about the world, he knew. It **had,** _in-fact_ occurred to him. How would he live with himself, though? Newt picks at his lip, thinking hard.

He crumples up the piece of parchment before him and tosses it into a nearby waste paper basket. Drawing another sheet of parchment from the neat stack on his desk and dipping his quill back into its pot of ink, he begins again.

_Dear Father and Mother,_

_~~I do not know where I am going~~ _ ~~.~~

Oh, yes, because that would certainly make the feel better. Newt snorts and crosses that line out too.

_I’m leaving home._

Yes, a good way to start. Simple and to the point. He runs his fingers through his hair and scratches at his scalp. He leans back in his chair and groans softly. He does not want to leave his mother behind. Newt rubs at his temples deep in thought. This is hard; he had known it would be this way. But it is harder than he’d originally thought.

 **The longer I hold off on leaving, the harder it will be** , he reminds himself.

 **Just write it, quick, before someone wakes up.** He bites his lip again. **Or before you lose your nerve.**

What could he tell them? He does not know where he is going or, for that matter, what he is going to do there. All he knows is that he wants to see more of the world, and he wants to see it for himself, without any stuffy itineraries or tour guides who would avoid all the interesting things. He thinks back to his last Care of Magical Creatures lesson before he was expelled.

 **Expelled**. That word rings loud and clear in his head. He tries to shake it free, tries to loosen the memory of the look on Leta’s face. Shock, horror, pain…acceptance. Newt’s eyes prick, but he sniffed and shook his head. **No, no. Not now. Not now.** Right now, the letter is what’s important.

Right. Care of Magical Creatures. They had talked for a great length of time on Dragons. It had been the topic for the last several weeks. Newt’s eyes light up when he rememberes tell of a dragon sanctuary in the Netherlands that is understaffed. He nods to himself, as he thinks more about it. He could probably get a job there, would they really turn down the extra hands? **No, no, of course they won’t.** Newt scraps his letter again and draws one final fresh sheet.

_Mum and Dad,_

_I love you both dearly. However, we all know I will not do well here._

He nods, dipping the quill again.

_So I have to leave. I do not know where I am going yet, though, I am very certain it will be incredible and awe inspiring._

That is not entirely a lie. Newt, for the life of him, cannot remember where in the Netherlands the dragon sanctuary is. Now what? What should he say after that? Ah- yes…

_Please do not worry after me or try to find me. I will come home in due time._

Newt thinks it is almost perfect.

_I will write when I am settled and able._

All that is left is to sign and seal it.

_Your loving son,_

_Newton Artemis Fido Scamander (The Second)_

He folds the parchment three times into itself, then drops a large blob of yellowy-gold wax onto it. He presses his personal seal into the warm melted wax and holds it there for a moment.

Newt pulls out a dingy case from inside the closet and begins to pack. Two shirts, three sweaters, two pairs of sturdy pants, some thick gloves. To the top of the pile he adds a mostly empty journal (it had been a Christmas gift from Leta) as well as several love letters (some he had written and never sent. Some from Leta.) A book or two to read on the journey, and last but not least, his Hufflepuff scarf. He considers throwing in his cheap travel stationary set as well but decides in the end, it will probably better if he not tempt himself until he had gotten wherever he was going. Writing Leta or his sister Katrina would be too enticing. He can buy supplies later, when it is more appropriate.

Newt takes one last look at his boyhood bedroom before nodding his head and walking to the door. In one hand is the letter to his mother and father, in the other is his suitcase.

Newt Scamander is determined to make something of himself, and determined to do some good in this world. Merlin knows it could use more good.

The letter is set on the dining room table, where either his mother or his father will have an equally good chance of finding it first. Newt takes his first step into the crisp night air and gulps. Yes, he can do this. He will be fine, he is a Scamander, after all.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Constructive criticism? You know where to leave it, loves. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for sneak peaks and chat me up! Inbox is always open: PessimisticBee


	8. Chicken Noodle Soup For The Obscurial Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence is sick; Newt takes care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> Wow. This is over 4k words and took me 3 days to write. Sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, I really wanted to begin work on another chapter. This could have easily been 10k words if I hadn't stopped it where I did. It isn't meant to be Newt/Credence, but you can see it if you squint. Like really hard. Maybe a good basis for later writing. For now, though, really, it's just friendship and compassion. 
> 
> Request fill for Wldwmn - Is this enough of a caregiving fic for you? <3 
> 
> Stand By You - Rachel Platten (I've been listening to this song for 3 days and I'm very much DONE now.)

Credence had been traveling with Newt for a few months now. He studied diligently: both basic magic that every young wizard would learn as well as Magizoology. What? He was living in the suitcase with Newt and the beasts, he might as well get to know them, and how to care for them, right?

 

Newt had given him all the space he had needed in those first weeks. He explained to Credence that if he needed to go obscurial, he could. Newt would not judge him.

 

Newt only gave him two rules for this.

  1. He needed to tell Newt beforehand. (So he would not worry as to the whereabouts of the ~~child~~ younger man.)
  2. He should do his very best to **only ever** go obscurial in the suitcase, in his own habitat. (This was for the sake of everyone, including Credence.) 
    1. If he was struggling and they were out and about, he should see rule #1 and inform Newt immediately.



 

Newt told him that it didn’t matter what they were doing at the moment when a feeling might strike, Credence needed, needed, **_needed_** to tell him as quickly as he could.

 

“Don’t argue Credence. Nothing I am doing is more important than your safety and health.”

Newt told him in his “stern creature-mummy” voice, and that had been the end of the conversation.

 

Credence was nervous the first few times he had to interrupt Newt. They had been in London, having lunch with Newt’s sister Katrina, the first time. Newt temporarily excused himself and Credence from the table and even went into the suitcase with him for a few minutes, to make sure he was comfortable.

 

Credence assumed that Newt would be angry with him later. It was his sister after all, certainly she was more important. Punishment never came though, and when Credence asked why, Newt pulled him into a tight hug.

 

“Credence, I told you. Your health and safety are important to me. And Katrina didn’t care. She was a bit concerned, but that was for you. She wasn’t offended.”

 

Credence had apologized for making a big deal of it. Newt told him that he wished he wasn’t always anxious and worried that he would hurt him. But, he said, he understood.

 

“We’ll work on it, Credence. Time and patience and hard work, and we’ll get there.”

 

And they had definitely made some progress. A lot of progress. But Newt, at the moment, was very concerned. When the arrangements were initially…arranged…Newt had charmed his case a bit more and given Credence his own room, with a door and everything. He had told him he would never enter without Credence’s permission. Unless he thought something was wrong, in which case, he would still try to resolve his worries without entering his young protégé’s space.

 

But it had been three days since Credence had come out of his room, and he wouldn’t answer when Newt knocked on the door, either. Being the motherly type that Newt was, he had every right in the world to be worried. He left trays of food outside of Credence’s bedroom door and made sure to be away for a while so that Credence had the chance to get at them without contact or confrontation. They always came back with something eaten, even if it was only a small portion.

 

This was too much, though. Newt was practically frantic with worry at this point And Credence? He still wasn’t answering the door.

 

 _What if he’s dead?_ Newt fretted. 

 

 _He could just be in a mood._ Newt reasoned with himself. 

 

 _He’s barely eating…_ Newt paced back and forth before the door like a caged animal.

 

 _It is my responsibility to look after him. Even if he is an adult, he is still fragile and still in need of care._ Newt made the split second decision to enter Credence’s room. He knocked one last time. Nothing.

 

 _Fine; no choice then._ He turned the door handle and walked into the room quickly before he lost his nerve.

 

The walls of Credence’s bedroom were a pale green, so much so that they could almost be called parakeet green. There wasn’t much to the room, in terms of furniture. A large bed with a great many blankets stood in the far corner, directly under a window that poured in sunlight, or moonlight, depending on the time of day. There was a desk which was covered in papers (various: drawings of creatures or plants, notes, thoughts, questions, a recipe from Jacob for candied pecans), quills and ink wells, books of varying size, language, and topic, an empty mug, candy wrappers, countless candles of different lengths, and a singular blooming flower in a pot.

 

Beside the desk was a tall skinny book shelf that was piled with books and potted plants. Credence hadn’t read them all, but he had read a good chunk of them and was still pushing steadily through.

 

A small dresser with a mirror stood off the one side. Credence didn’t have many clothes, which, frankly, he was fine with. He wore basically the same things day in and day out. His most cherished article of clothing was currently draped over his desk chair: it was a Hufflepuff sweater that Newt had given him shortly after he moved into the case, before they had a chance to go shopping.

The most interesting thing about Credence’s room, by far, though, were the plants. Yes, there were only one or two on the shelf, and the lonely one on his desk. But scattered around the room, wherever Credence had found space, there were more. It was getting out of hand, actually. Newt made a mental note, as he looked around the room, to start a garden space outdoors for Credence. Maybe a greenhouse of his own? The boy’s favorite subject, by far, was Herbology. He loved everything about it and had finished the first year textbook in a week and a half.

 

Newt had been startled when, one evening long after he supposed Credence must be sleeping, Credence had crept very quietly into the main work room.

 

“Can I have the next one?” He’d asked in that soft, gentle, frightened voice of his.

 

Newt, who had been working on something at his desk successfully dumped an inkwell and a mug of tea in his alarm.

 

“Credence. Merlin. It’s late. What are you doing up?” He looked credence up and down. He was wearing a pair of striped pajama pants and the Hufflepuff sweater and clutching a book to his chest.

 

“I…I was just reading, sir and…”

 

“Credence, I’ve told you before.” Newt sighed, but then smiled gently up at Credence, “You don’t need to call me sir. We’re friends. Just because I’m your teacher, doesn’t mean you owe me any kind of extra respect. Newt, Credence; Newt.”

 

Credence nodded solemnly. “S- Newt.” Credence shook his head, mildly uncomfortable. “Is there…I mean to ask, do you have…any more books like this one?” he asked, holding out his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore.

 

“Are you finished already? That’s a very thick book, Credence.” Not that Newt didn’t believe Credence was capable. He just hadn’t expected him to be so hungry for, well, Herbology.

 

“Yes, sir- Newt, sorry, si- Newt. Sorry.” Credence fumbled with his words.

  
“No need to apologize, Credence…but, I’m afraid I don’t have anything else on Herbology.” He thought a moment, “I’ll tell you what, though. We’ll be in London in a few days, and I’ll take you to Flourish and Blotts, in Diagon Alley. We’ll get you a few more books on the subject. To tide you over, though, why don’t you write three rolls of parchment on your favorite herb or fungi from the book? Tell me what you learned about it, what you thought was interesting, if there was anything you found dull. If there are any questions you have that the book didn’t answer, talk about those too. Annnnnd… if you think you can manage, an illustration or two of what you think it looks like.”

 

Credence had written two and a half rolls of parchment on Abyssinian Shrivelfigs.

 

“I would have written three, but there wasn’t anything else to say…”

 

In apology and in trying to make up for the missing half-roll, he had sketched and drawn five different illustrations, all increasingly detailed and vivid, even just in plain ink. Newt had made a mental note to get several more books, and write to Herbert Beery, his old Herbology teacher, to ask for ideas on more advanced things for Credence to study. He also made a note to take Credence to purchase a few plants, and to go to the Botanical Gardens in London.

* * *

 

But now, Credence was certainly not caring for his plants. Newt was grateful that he had told his young pupil no when he had asked if they could get a fanged geranium.

 

Yes, that was good, because Newt was almost certain that Credence was unable to get up and take care of his plants in his current condition. He was asleep now, curled up in fetal position in his bed. He looked very ill and was whimpering in his sleep. Upon further inspection, Newt decided he was almost entirely certain that Credence had Dragon-Pox. It seemed to be a minor case, but none the less, Newt was concerned.

 

They were at least 2 days from London, even if they weren’t using muggle transportation. Biting his lip, Newt considered trying to find a fireplace to use, so he could take Credence by flue to St. Mungos. While he was fairly sure it was just a mild case, Newt didn’t actually know. And he didn’t know how it would effect someone of Credence’s frailty. He was standing there still, in silent contemplation, when Credence rolled over and whined, waking up.

 

As his vision cleared, Credence noticed Newt standing there.

 

“Sir- Newt. Newt. What- I- I can explain…I- please don’t be angry- I don’t know what…I’m sorry I-” he began to sob, clutching a pillow to his chest as he shook.

 

Newt was perplexed. “Why would I be angry. Credence. Credence sweetheart. Credence. Love. Love. Stop. Oh please do stop, it’s alright. I wish you would have told me you were under the weather, but I’m not- how could I be angry with you?” He didn’t move forward to comfort Credence physically, even though he wanted to. He didn’t remember how contagious Dragon Pox were, and was unsure of whether or not any of his creatures could catch them. He cringed outwardly as Credence’s sobs became louder. He knew he needed to be held, but what good would it do either of them if Newt became sick as well?

 

“Credence, please stop crying, if you can. I’m positive that you are already dehydrated, and becoming more so really won’t do us any good.” He reasoned.

  
Credence looked up. _Oh._ It hurt Newt’s heart to see how absolutely terrified and sad Credence was. His face was pink from crying already, his nose was running and his eyes were so very bloodshot…

 

“I don’t want to be a burden.” His sobs renewed as he mistook the look on Newt’s face for disgust.

 

“You are **not** a burden, Credence!” _Blast_. He hadn’t meant to yell. Now Credence was shaking more than before.

 

Newt ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. “I’m sorry to have yelled, Credence, that was unfair of me. I know it will take time to amend the horrible view of yourself that that Woman-” Net never called Mary-Lou Barebone Credence’s mother – “That that woman put into your head. It frustrates me at times, but it is not right of me to lash out at you, especially not now. But Credence, please. Please, try to remember: you are not a burden. You are a person, and when you’re sick – or sad, or hurting, or scared, or hungry or in any sort of need – it is my responsibility – which need I remind you, I chose, and I choose every day, because I care about you – it is my responsibility to care for you. You are not a burden to me. You’re not a problem. You’re not something I need to fix. You are my friend and you. Frankly, you’re just a kid, I don’t care how old you are. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in needing help, and asking for it.” Newt had rambled on for several minutes, and by the time he was done, Credence was just staring at him, sniffling and with bleary, damp eyes.

 

“Thank you.” Was all he said. But he didn’t move.

 

Newt wiped his hand over his face and realized that his eyes were a bit damp as well. He sniffled. He rubbed his temples and then looked back at Credence.

 

“I think you have something known as Dragon-Pox-”

 

“Is that like chicken pox?” Credence asked, no emotion on his face.

 

“A bit. But, as it is a magical malady, it’s a bit more than that. We’re going to need to go to the hospital.”

 

Credence looked more anxious than ever.

 

“It’s alright. It’s alright, Credence. I don’t think it’s a very bad case, but, it can be deadly if not treated.”

 

“You don’t- I don’t need the hospital, the costs-” Credence was shaking his head and retreating further into his blankets.

Newt shook his head too, “No, Credence. Wizards have universal healthcare. It’s free, and even if it wasn’t –but it is– I would not have any problem taking care of the costs. Now, it is going to take us a couple more days to get to London, so we’re going to have to manage on our own. You are going to keep resting, but the food you eat is going to change, and you’re going to drink more fluids. Also, Credence, it would be best if you stopped scratching at the pox-”

 

“I’m not-” Credence tried to defend.

 

Newt snorted. “Look down, Credence. You are literally scratching right now.”

 

Credence looked down in horror and removed his hand from the spot on his wrist that he was scratching. “I’m sor-”

 

Newt had had enough of this. “Time for a new rule, I think. Temporary, but it will stand until I say otherwise- No more apologizing for the moment, Credence. None. Not another “I’m sorry.” Or “My apologies.” Or “I didn’t mean to.” You’re sick. You’re not well. You don’t need to say sorry. You don’t need to **be** sorry.”

 

Newt thought before he spoke his next words. “When I was a child, my mother had a very similar rule. I’m not going to blame you for being sick. I am…perhaps a little frustrated that you didn’t tell me, but, again, that’s an issue for another day.” Newt scratched at his head and pulled out the desk chair, taking a seat.

 

“I need you to let me take care of you Credence. When you’re not sick anymore, you can go back to being independent and taking care of yourself but for now. For now, I’m in charge, I’ll take care of you. I’m the adult.”

 

“I am an adult-“ Credence tried to argue.

  
Newt put up a hand to silence Credence. It did the job. “I’m the adult. The responsible party. The caregiver in this situation. Will you please Credence, just do as I say?”

 

Credence nodded slowly. “Can I just…one more thing?” he asked.

 

“Yes.” Newt nodded.

 

“I am sorry, that I…that I didn’t tell you, sir- er…Newt. No one has ever taken care of me before, and I- I didn’t think. With all of the creatures you need to care for- I simply thought it would better if I left you alone- I underestimated- I was wrong. I’ll do my best to do as I’m told now, and behave, because I know…” he struggled with the words, tears were leaking from his eyes again.

 

“I know you have my best interest at heart. Sir. I- Newt.”

Newt couldn’t help himself and was by Credence’s side in an instant, hand on his head. “We can take a break from that rule, for now, if you think it will make it easier for you to do as your told.”

 

Credence looked up at him pitifully, with a confused look on his face.

  
Newt elaborated. “Call me whatever is easier, for the moment.”

 

“Sir…” Credence had looked away again.   
  
“If that’s what works for you, yes.” Newt sighed. “Lay back. I’ll be back with water in a moment. I want to check your temperature and then see what I can find in my books on magical maladies. Don’t get up. If you need anything before I come back, just call, alright?”

 

“Yessir.” Credence said. Newt smiled and sighed with relief, before turning on his heel and going to find water and a thermometer. He had one of those, right?

 

“Accio thermometer.”  A thermometer came flying out of Merlin knows where and landed gently in his palm. “Well, that answers that question.”

 

Newt washed his hands thoroughly and then found a clean glass and a pitcher. He filled them both with water, then made toast with honey on it. He also made tea, in case Credence wasn’t in the mood for water. All of this, he set on a tray and brought with him into Credence’s room. Credence, of course, was reading when Newt walked in.

 

“You don’t need to be studying, Credence, you can take a break.” Newt sighed. He was having horrible flashbacks to what his mother had gone through when Theseus had been sick.

 

“I’m not.” Credence insisted.   
  
Newt raised an eyebrow and gestured at the book.

 

“It’s the new one Professor Beery sent…I’m just reading for pleasure.” Credence tried to reason.

 

“Alright. Alright. Well put it down, anyway. I’ve brought a thermometer, as well as some herbal tea that should help you feel a little better, and some toast.” Credence set the book down on his bedside table after marking his place and waited cautiously for Newt to do whatever it was he was going to do.   
  
Newt set the tray down on the desk chair, since there was no room on the desk. He moved to Credence’s side,

 

“I’m going to put this under your tongue and you should then close your mouth and try not to move it around too much, alright?”

  
Credence nodded, still looking a bit apprehensive. Newt stuck the thermometer in; Credence closed his mouth. Newt began to absentmindedly straighten the papers on the desk into a tidy pile. He froze mid-action, turned back to Credence.

 

“You don’t mind me clearing up a bit, do you? I’m not looking at anything. Just…more space, for tea and such.”

 

Credence shook his head; no, he didn’t mind at all. When the papers were straightened and the tea tray was resting on the desk, Newt walked back over to Credence and looked at the thermometer.

 

“101.3” He sighed.

 

“Is that bad, sir?” Credence asked.

 

“Yes, Credence.” Newt told him plainly.

 

“I’ll be right back, I think I have something that might help with the fever…” Newt was already lost in thought.

 

“Er…Sir. You…uh..I….you said something about…somethingtoeat?” Credence was looking away and biting at his lip.

 

“Oh! Of course! I’ve made you some toast! My mum used to make it for us when we were sick.” Newt went back to the desk and picked up the plate, as well as the cup of tea. He handed both to Credence, who looked rather grateful.

 

When Newt returned with what he had needed to fetch, Credence had devoured both slices of toast and appeared to be licking honey from his fingers.

 

“You were hungry then? How is the tea?” Newt asked. Credence jolted, only now hearing Newt.

 

“Oh, I. Yes. Yes, sir, and it was good.” Newt can tell that Credence is serious.

  
“What was- what was that on there, though? The golden colored stuff? It was so good…”

 

Newt almost had to pick his jaw off of the floor. “Honey, Credence.”

 

“What?” his young charge asked.

 

 Newt could have smacked himself in the face. “No. It’s. That’s what honey is. It was honey. With some cinnamon.”

 

“Oh.” Credence looked very thoughtful. “I’d never had it before. Mother said that it was an extravagance and as such, it was a sin.”

 

Newt stopped himself from saying some possibly very unkind things about Mary-Lou Barebones.

 

“Well it isn’t. Bees make it. Have you seen how many bees this planet has? It’s not an extravagance and it isn’t a sin, and you can have as much as you like. I put some in your tea, actually.”

 

A smile so innocent and untainted spread across that Credence’s face that Newt could have cried. Credence lifted the tea mug to his lips and took a deep draft. Now he looked as though **he** might cry.   


“It’s so good.” He whispered. “Why would anyone drink coffee?” Credence looked around as if the entire world had just opened up to him.

 

Newt chuckled. “I ask myself the same question quite often. Oh. Here.” He handed Credence something small and white. “Swallow that with some tea –you’ll hardly taste it– and in a few minutes it should help with the fever. Are you having any other problems? I see the spots and the greenish tinge of your skin; there isn’t much we can do for either, I’m afraid. I can make a potion to put on the spots to help them itch and hurt less, but it will take me some time. Headache? Nausea? Stomachache? Fast pulse?”

 

“I’ve had a headache for a few days…” Credence admitted softly.

 

“Oh, Credence.” Newt sighed. He stroked the younger man’s hair. “Please. Don’t suffer in silence ever again. Please. Always tell me if you aren’t feeling well? From now on.”

 

“Yessir.” Credence mumbled.

 

“What I gave you for the fever should help your headache as well. Let me know, in one hour, if it still hurts, and we’ll try something different.” Newt instructed.

 

“Yessir.” Credence repeated. He took another sip of his tea. Newt ruffled Credence’s hair a bit.

 

“I’ll go get started on that potion. Relax, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

 

“Okay.” Credence answered, leaning back into his pillows and closing his eyes, as he brought the cup of tea (which he clutched in both hands) to his lips once more.

 

Newt left the room and began work on the potion. In between steps that required more time, he checked on and fed his creatures. He peaked in on Credence after a bit and found him fast asleep, mug empty, book open on his chest. Credence looked so peaceful now, much different than his earlier rest, when he had been tossing and turning and whimpering.

 

Yes, he would be alright.

 

Newt took the book from Credence’s chest and marked his place, then set it on the beside table. He collected the mug as well as the plate and took them away to be cleaned.

 

Several hours later, Credence awoke to Newt’s gentle shaking.

 

“Credence, wake up. I’m sorry love, but I couldn’t let you sleep all day.”

 

“How long ‘s I asleep fr?” Credence mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

 

“About six hours. Hungry?”

 

“Oh, yes.” Credence nodded with as much excitement as he could.

 

“Good. I made soup.” Newt smiled. He disappeared for a moment and then was back just as quickly with a tray. On the tray was a large bowl of soup, which smelled and looked quite a bit better than anything Credence had had when in Mary-Lou’s care, a glass of some orange colored juice, and a chunk of bread slathered in butter.

 

“That’s my mum’s recipe.” Newt told him cheerily, pointing at the soup. “She used to make it for my sisters and my brother and I when we were sick. It’s very good, I promise.”

 

“Thank you.” Credence looked up at Newt with a genuine and heartwarming smile. Newt stroked Credence’s hair again.

 

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

 

 Two days passed quickly like this; Credence in bed, resting a reading and Newt, checking in on him with food and medicine every little while.

 

Credence’s fever spiked the night before they were to arrive in London. Newt sat at his side all night, refreshing the cold rag on Credence’s forehead every half hour or so. When they arrived in London, Credence’s fever was not much better.   
  
“I’m very sorry, Credence, but we’ll have to get out of the case now and apparate to the hospital.”

 

Credence definitely did not take well to apparating. This was reasonable, though, Newt reasoned. He was sick, after all.

 

Shortly, Credence was all checked in and the paperwork was complete. He was asleep, now. The medi-witch had been very determined that he needed to sleep, and gave him a potion for it.

 

Newt sat down with a cup of tea and began to compose replies to letters he had received and been neglecting for the last few days.

 

Two hours or so later, he glanced up when Credence rolled over. His eyes were barely open, and Newt wasn’t even sure that the young man was awake.

 

“Thanks fer takin’ care of me.” He mumbled softly.

 

“Of course.” Newt said, reaching over to stroke Credence’s hair again. Credence’s eyes closed entirely again, and a gentle smile played on his lips.

 

Newt was very glad at this moment, that he had decided to take him in. Credence deserved to be taken care of and shown compassion. Someone had to do it, he had reasoned months before. Now, he realized, he wouldn’t have had it any other way: Credence was his responsibility, and he was happy every day of his life for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm going to do next. I guess I'll put my music on shuffle and see what happens, eh?


	9. She's Beauty; She's Grace: She'll Punch You In The Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta Lestrange through Newt's eyes, 5th year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beginning to really enjoy writing in current tense. OH! And thanks for over 2k views guys! Holy CRAP! WOW! 
> 
> Killer Queen - Queen

There are things that Newt does not know or understand.

Why Margret had to die at the age of eight?

Why was the snow prettiest from the astronomy tower late at night when he should be in bed?

Did Theseus **actually** have a stick up his ass, as he has heard many people say?

But there are things that Newt does know, at the ripe old age of almost-seventeen.

He knows ten different breeds of dragons, at least.

He knows his mother’s cooking is better than anyone’s; yes, even the house-elves.

Most of all he knows that Leta Lestrange is changing, metamorphizing like a caterpillar to a butterfly. She may be somewhat changed, already, he supposes. Leta is in the chrysalis stage of her life, and Newt does not know what she will end up.

Right now, though, she is everything. Well, no. Not everything. Care of Magical Creatures still means a lot to him, and so does his sister, Katrina. He’s fond of the warm summers he spends with his mother in the gardens, tending flowers and hippogriffs as if one is as simple as the other.

But Leta Lestrange. Nothing could compare to loving her.

She is adventurous.  Newt cannot count the number of times they have become lost exploring either the forest or the area around Hogsmede. He can count, however, the number of times they have been caught, as he has a letter from his father and a memory from his brother yelling at him for each and every one.

She is curious. Everything new excites Leta, and she digs in her heels until she finds or is given the answers to all of her questions. They spend multiple hours in the library together, researching things that have nothing to do with schoolwork. There are times when Leta’s curiosity puts her in danger, but she is capable and keeps herself alive. When this is not enough, Newt is at her side, often bemused if not just a tad horrified, but ever willing to help his best friend satisfy her hunger for knowledge.

Newt does not think himself a vain person, but it does make him happy to be able to describe his hand-holding-partner as gorgeous. Or beauteous. Or lovely. Really any word like that which happens to pop into his mind. Leta’s long thick black curls tumble over her shoulders, except for the rare days when she pulls it back. She’s beautiful then, too. Her eyes are wild and look as though they hold galaxies within them. Newt contemplates her beauty silently sometimes, thinking it goes unnoticed. He is often pulled from his reveries by Leta’s amused laughter.

“Newt. Babe?  Newt. Darling? NEWTON, CAN YOU HEAR ME???”

He is startled. “I. Uh. Yes, Leta. Were you saying something I-”

“was busy getting lost in my eyes again?” She grins.

Newt flushes. “Well. I. Uh. Yes, as a matter of fact.” He looks away, embarrassed. Leta smirks and pulls him in for a deep kiss. He feels as though he cannot breath. He does not mind though. If Leta kills him by taking his breath away, how can he complain?

“What a way to go.” He mumbles. Leta questions him, but he does not explain.

She is dedicated. By their third year, Newt comes to understand why Leta is placed in Hufflepuff, despite family history and certain personality traits. She puts her energy into first things being first, and being done more than well. Even when not exactly efficient, her work is always thorough. This applies to not only her schoolwork but her love for Newt as well.

She is honest, at times, to a fault. Once, she is asked by a prefect what she and Newt are doing out so late. It is past curfew.

“My boyfriend got philosophical when we were talking in the library and rambled on too long and the only thing I could do to get him to shut up was to snog him nearly to death. We got distracted.” She does not apologize, she is not sorry.

The prefect, a tall Ravenclaw boy, turns bright red. So does Newt.

“Well. I. Uh. See that it doesn’t happen again. And get to your dormitories! I don’t want to have to knock points off Hufflepuff.” The startled boy replies. He is looking anywhere but at Leta and Newt.

“Can’t make any-”

Newt interrupts Leta’s admission by elbowing her lightly in the ribs and beaming at the Ravenclaw. “We will do our absolute best, Grif. Goodnight, and thank you.” He drags Leta away, still red in the face.  

Leta is graceful. Even in her anger, there is something to be said for the way she holds herself. When she trips, she makes it look intentional. Not “oops, quick. I didn’t just fall” intentional, but truly, really intentional. As if she really was trying to fall on the ground and land on her face with her skirts up and everything on display. She slides down banisters past other students, as well as faculty members often. When then get to the bottom of the stairs, she is leaping off the end and landing with a fanciful pirouette. Newt would watch Leta just move all day, if he could.

She is the definition of witty.

Wit·ty

ˈwidē/

_adjective_

adjective: **witty** ; comparative adjective: **wittier** ; superlative adjective: **wittiest**

  1. showing or characterized by quick and inventive verbal humor.



When Newt is in a low mood, she will be at his side with a quick joke or snarky remark in a heartbeat. She can always make him laugh. Sometimes, her jokes are thought provoking. Much like Leta herself, they make him wonder at the world. He also wonders, to himself and never aloud, how someone who has been caused so much pain can find the energy to be funny. Then, he remembers Margret. Her pain was a different type, but he can’t help but see the similarities between her and the girl whose hand he likes to hold now.

She is not brave, per say. No, that would imply that Leta is capable of feeling fear, which, any observer will know, she is not. Fearless is the word Newt uses to describe her; others simply say that she is mad. This may not be an altogether inaccurate description, but it is unkind, and undermines Leta’s character, so Newt does not use it, and growls at anyone who does. Though smaller than your average woman, Leta Lestrange has no qualms in standing up for others. Just because she doesn’t fit in, doesn’t mean she is going to stand by and watch others get hurt. She gets in-between loud-mouthed Gryffindors who pick on younger Slytherins frequently. She has no problem calling out teachers who appear to be discriminating against students for whatever reason, be they of the ‘wrong’ house, or the ‘wrong’ blood status. And Merlin help anyone she hears picking on a Hufflepuff for their being a Hufflepuff.

Newt has not seen most of the bloody noses or busted lips, but he’s heard about them. It is hard to believe of Leta, sometimes.  When he asks her about Martin Eskew being sent to the hospital wing and missing a week of classes, she begins to cry.

“He was trying to hex a first year, Newt!” she sniffles convincingly. Her eyes water. “It was the first thing I could think of, and I promise, I didn’t mean to hurt him so badly…” and she means it. Or at least, Newt believes she must. He is not quite sure, when he thinks back on it though. Martin Eskew is at least a foot and a half taller than Leta, and if she wasn’t trying to hurt him, then how…never mind that, though. Just because Newt didn’t get in fist fights to protect people, didn’t mean he should judge Leta for it.

Newt knows, above all else, that Leta is wild. It does not occur to him until later that not all wild things can be tamed. Not even the most experienced Magizooligist can keep a lethifold or a manticore. Leta will not be domesticated. Newt does not think on this until he older, however.

For the moment, Leta is beautiful. Leta is strange. Leta is warm and makes him happy and helps him to not feel so alone in the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it bug you guys that I gave you every reason in the world to hate Leta, only to follow it up with multiple reasons Newt loved her? 
> 
> I'm completely out of requests. Hit me up, on here, or on tumblr, pretty please. <3 <3 <3


	10. In the Rain No-one Can See You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Newt still needed to take Frank to Arizona. They both know this is how it has to be, but Frank is reluctant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely meant to be way way less bittersweet. Oops. A short piece. Enjoy.
> 
> Movin’ Right Along – Alkaline Trio (Originally the Muppets)

Newt enjoyed the journey, He had been shocked, of course, when Frank had landed back down beside him after he had made it rain. He nudged Newt with his beak as if to say, “You’re still going to take me home, right?”

And Newt of course, could not help but oblige. If anyone asked, he was very happy to get to have a few more days with Frank.

What was supposed to be a few days, though, had turned into a few weeks. He was almost positive at this point that Frank was slowing them down on purpose.

First, Frank had gotten out of the case and caused an enormous storm in Ohio. He had almost been spotted by a couple of muggles. Newt was honestly terrified that he was going to have to obliviate someone. Which, after his recent jaunt in New York City, was not something he was particularly looking forward to. Thinking about Jacob Kowalski broke his heart, quite honestly.

Then, in Missouri, when they were at a stop over that had been several hours, Frank had been entirely fine. Until half an hour before they were supposed to board the next train. Newt had ended up having to go into the case to calm Frank, and wouldn’t you know it, Newt had missed the train by a mere ten minutes. They didn’t leave Missouri until the next night, and they had almost missed the train a second time.

Oklahoma though. Merlin, Oklahoma. Newt couldn’t be certain, but he had a theory that it had been Frank who had unlatched the case from the inside, causing the niffler to get out an run amuck. Blessedly, they had made their train. Except that Newt in his distracted and frustrated and exhausted state, had gotten on the wrong train. They were all the way to Wyoming before he realized what had happened.

So that added several hours to the journey. Then, Newt couldn’t find Dougal. He looked all over and then was forced to back track. A lot. Dougal was still in OHIO. That by itself a took a week.

Newt didn’t want to think about New Mexico at all. But here they were, finally. The wilds of Arizona

Newt was stroking Frank’s feather gently. “It’s time to go my friend.” Frank squawked indignantly.

“Yes. I’m afraid so. Don’t, oh don’t, Frank, please.” Frank gently headbutted Newt’s face.   
  
“I’ll come back to visit, Frank.”

 _I don’t want you to leave in the first place_ the Thunderbird seemed to be saying. Newt’s eyes watered.

“Come now. We’ve had a very long journey to get you here. What of your family? Your mother and your father? And I’ll bet-”

Newt’s voice cracked. “I’ll bet you have siblings by now, too. And you can mate. You can find a mate Frank, and won’t life be grand then? Imagine you, with three or four little hatchlings flying around all clumsily and you’ll be a dad. You’ll be majestic and so will they.” Newt was openly crying, now. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He knew that Frank must not want to either, but it was for the best.

“It’s for the best. You know…you know that Frank.” Frank cooed.   
  
“Please stop, you’re making this so hard…”

Newt sniffled and looked up when he heard a cawing sound that definitely was _not_ Frank. Figures were flying swiftly towards them in the sky. Upon closer inspection, Newt knew that they were thunderbirds. Frank backed up a bit, leaning into Newt.

“It’ll be alright, Frank. You’re home. You’re home.”

The thunderbirds landed very near them. They tilted their heads to the side, looking at the odd pair; a wizard and a thunderbird. They squawked and moved closer, sniffing at Frank. Their eyes widened and one let out something that sounded very much to Newt like triumph, before tackling Frank.

Frank squawked back at the bird. It looked to be female, Newt decided. “Is that your mum, Frank?” Frank turned and stared at Newt. The large bird shed a tear.  Newt was positive now, that Frank had found his family. He gently patted his friends beak.

“Get on, then, will you?” Frank looked between his father and mother and Newt, and chirped.

“Oh don’t worry about me. I’ve got- I’ve got family of my own…and you’ll always be family to me, too, Frank. Even when I’m not here.” He hugged Frank around his enormous neck and stroked his beak. When he backed off, Frank looked at him one last time, before shooting into the sky. The other two thunderbirds took off right after and let out sounds of pure joy. The three spiraled into the sky, only to be met by more once high enough up. Thunder rumbled. Frank was home. Newt would be wet, if he kept watching them. But, he couldn’t pull his gaze away.

He let out a sigh. Another good deed done, another creature where it should be. Just because it was right, though, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt Newt. It was inevitable. It was the right thing to do. Newt contemplated these things, as he began the long walk in the rain, back to the train station. Once aboard and heading back towards New York, he began to compose a letter.

  
_“Mum and Dad,_

_It has been quite some time since I have written, however I…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3


	11. Passions of My Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt gives a speech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I had the chapter all typed up and everything, just didn't feel like turning the computer on. Hi *waves* I suffer from severe depression and sometimes do not have the will to get out of bed. 
> 
> Anyway here you go. This one was kind of fun to write and honestly, if I'd had the energy when I wrote it, it would probably be a couple thousand words longer and full to the brim with exposition.
> 
> Here's To The Zeros - Mariana's Trench

It was almost time to go on. Merlin, why ever had he agreed to this? It was a terrible idea. Him? Newt? Talking to a group of children? Alright, not so much children as very young adults. This was a terrible idea and it was going to go very poorly and oh how he hated public speaking. Why was he speaking at Hogwarts, anyway? Who had decided **_that_** was a good idea? Hadn’t they thrown him out? They had thrown him out! Then they had sent him a letter asking him to come talk about magical creatures? Were they trying to get people killed? Not that Newt was likely to get anyone killed but…he would have thought that the school would be entirely against him ever stepping foot on the grounds again. Especially to talk to young people! About! Magical! Creatures!

 

“You’re going to pace a hole in my favorite rug, Mr. Scamander.” Newt looked up sharply to see Albus Dumbledore looking at him genially over his spectacles.

 

“I- Oh. I’m sorry Prof- al- Headmaster.” Yes, that was right, Dumbledore was the headmaster now. That probably had something to do with Newt’s being there. No one else in their right mind would have even considered it.

 

“You’re more tense than I would have thought.” Dumbledore told him.

 

“Me. What. Tense? Ha! No! Of course not. I’m just. I’m only going to be talking to a whole new generation of young people about the subject that is nearest and dearest to my heart. And got me expelled! Why would I be nervous? HA!” He was so, so, **so** nervous.

 

“I didn’t say anything about nervous, Newton. I said you were tense. And if I recall, it was Leta Lestrange, that got you expelled.”

 

Newt threw his hands up in the air, letting out a pitiable sound. He decided to let the Leta comment slip by as if he hadn’t heard it. “How am I supposed to do this?”

 

“Did you not write a speech?” the headmaster asked.

 

Newt stared at him blankly. The truth was, he had tried. He had tried to write a speech. He’s spent the last two months trying to write a decent speech. It was hard, though. How do you talk to people about magical creatures? Most of the wizarding population didn’t care about them or thought they were nuisances. That was Newt’s experience, at least.

 

“I uh…I thought I’d wing it, sir.” He said nervously. Newt felt like he was thirteen again and in Dumbledore’s office being scolded for yet another folly.

 

Dumbledore snorted.

 

Newt looked at his old professor with a terror-stricken expression. Dumbledore, to his credit, was trying his very best not to laugh at the young man. He knew that Newt must be terrified.

 

“Do you remember, in your fourth year, when you stood in the courtyard and told all your classmates who would listen about doxies? And how they weren’t really **that** dangerous, if handled with care. Their possible benefits to the wizarding community- you were very passionate.”

 

“I was also laughed at for three months.” Newt reminded him.

 

Dumbledore sighed. “Newt, you are not a child anymore.” He paused, “In some ways, anyway.”

 

Before Newt had the chance to look offended, Dumbledore continued.

 

“What I mean to say is this: You have spent years of your life travelling the world and learning about these creatures. You’ve written a book which is not only critically acclaimed, but ministry approved. Most any student past their second year has read at least a few chapters of it…or at least owns a copy. It’s in the Care of Magical Creatures Curriculum, after all. These students either look up to you because of what you have accomplished, or simply because you are an adult. Of course there are a few who won’t, but, I think you’ll recall, even in your day, there were students who didn’t have respect for anyone, let alone authority figures…”

 

Newt sighed, stopping his pacing long enough to listen to Dumbledore talk. Even now, he couldn’t look him in the eye for long.

 

“My point, Mr. Scamander, is that you have nothing to worry about. Just go out there and talk about what you love. Maybe answer a few questions, I’m sure there will be plenty.” Dumbledore squeezed Newt’s shoulder.

 

“You’re on in less than a minute Mr. Scamander!” a cheerful looking man said, popping his head around the door.

 

Newt nodded and took a deep breath. He straightened his bowtie and walked out the door, into the overly crowded great hall. He gulped, then magically magnified his voice.

 

“Hello, Hogwarts!” he said, wide eyed.

 

“Hello Mr. Scamander!” some students called out.

 

“Mornin’!”

 

“How are you doing, dollface!?” Some female student called out.

 

“Ah, I see we have at least one American!” Newt tried not to flush at the last comment. The hall rang with laughter. Oh, was it that easy?

 

Newt straightened himself up a bit in front of the podium.

 

“So…how is everyone doing this morning?”

 

There were various responses to that. “How are you, sir!” a few cried back.

 

Newt thought a moment. Better to be honest. “I am…absolutely terrified.”

 

More chuckles through the assembled students.

 

“Well, now that…necessary pleasantries are over- Magical Creatures, yes?”

 

Silence, like they were waiting for him to say something else. Newt coughed. “Show of hands, how many of you have taken a care of magical creatures class?”

 

Two thirds of the students raised their hands, and there were a couple of outcries of “Haven’t had the chance yet!”

 

A stern looked woman tried to settle the students, “Quiet now, he said show of hands, not shouts-” she said.

 

Newt raised her hand at her to stop her. “They’re fine. I like to see enthusiasm.” He turned back to the students.

 

“How many have you seen an actual magical creature up close, show of hands, again?”

 

More hands this time.

 

“Sir do gnomes count?” One looking Hufflepuff called out.

  
“Yes, yes they do! They have a Ministry Of Magic classification of XX. That means- someone, tell me what that means?” Maybe he could just get the students to interact, then he wouldn’t have to talk so much.

 

Several hands went up Newt pointed at a tall Ravenclaw girl. “You there, Miss…?”

 

“Penrose, sir. Penelope Penrose.”

 

“Right, Ms. Penrose. Whats XX mean?” Newt asked cheerfully.

 

“XX creatures are harmless. Some are even domesticateable.”

 

“Harmless my left nad! They’re hell on gardens!” some unnamed and very well hidden student said.   
  
Newt couldn’t help but laugh along with the students at this one. “Yes, yes, they can be fairly irksome in the garden, but, other than a bit of a bite, they really are harmless.”

 

“Mr. Scamander, can you tell us about the dragon sanctuaries, please?” someone called out.

  
There was a chorus of “Yeah”s and “Oh, please!” Newt looked around the room, glancing behind him at Dumbledore.

 

“Well, I don’t see why not…what do you want to know?” he opened the floor to questions. Students asked them left and right, just shouting them out.   
  
“Oh, hands, please, that’s a lot of questions! I’ll do my very best to get to all of you, though-” hands went up and Newt picked one.

 

“Is it true that you went to the dragon sanctuary in the Netherlands right after you got expelled?” the student asked. Newt’s eyes widened.

  
“Er. Yes. I did. I…I suppose I didn’t really see any need to sit around the house feeling sorry for myself. If I wasn’t going to finish school, I thought I should at least go do something good with my life.” He tried to answer the question honestly, without sounding as though he was encouraging students to try to get expelled.

 

“Did you get expelled on purpose?” Another student yelled.

 

Newt did a double take. “No!” oh…bit too loud. “Sorry.” He shook his head, then said softer, “No. I did not get expelled on purpose…and, I would greatly appreciate it if we…didn’t breach that subject again, yes?” he chose another hand that was in the air.

 

“What was the most interesting breed of dragon to work with?”

 

“Oh well…I simply can’t choose, I’m afraid. You see, they all…they were all very interesting, for different reasons. Take the Antipodean Opaleye, for example. Medium size dragons, mostly from New Zealand. They don’t kill often unless they’re hungry, and they don’t dwell in mountains either, but wide valleys. And their scales are absolutely beautiful. Stunning, even. Common Welsh Greens prefer sheep to humans, and avoid them almost altogether. Peruvian Vipertooths are the smallest known dragons, and their fangs are venomous. Ukranian Ironbellies are the largest breed of dragon and can achieve a weight of up to six tonnes! So…I’m sorry, I’m afraid I simply cannot choose one.” Newt looked around at the students, who appeared to be stunned into silence.

 

“I’m sorry, did I-” but before he could finish his question, more hands shot up.

 

“Have you really seen an Erumpent up close?”

 

“Yes. They can be rather sweet and gentile, as long as they aren’t in season.”

 

“Are there any kinds of trees that Bowtruckles won’t claim?”

 

“I’m not aware of any, no.”

 

“Is it true you helped to save the Jackalope population in the States from extinction?”

 

“Well, technically, they were vulnerable, not endangered. And I had a lot of help with that one, but I suppose, yes, that is true.”  
  
“Do you have a favorite creature?”

 

“Absolutely not. I could never choose, next question.”

 

“Do you think the mythology of Quintapeds is an accurate portrayal of how they came to be?”

 

“Nobody knows. It is definitely a possibility.”

 

“Have you ever stolen a creature because it wasn’t being treated well?”

 

Newt’s eyes bulged at this particular question. He coughed, “No comment.”

 

It went on like this for quite some time. 

 

Newt glanced at Dumbledore, who was giving him the “wrap it up” look. Newt looked back at the audience.

 

“Two more questions then. I’ll close my eyes to choose.” And he did.   
  
“Was it really necessary to mark unicorns as XXXXX to the fourteenth power?”

 

Newt thought back to his experiences with Unicorns. He nodded, “Yes, yes I definitely think so. Last question, now.”

 

“What advice would you give to any aspiring magizoologists?”

Newt closed his eyes for a moment and thought about the last ten or so years of his life. He bit his knuckles in thought, then swept some hair out of his eyes, looking at the student who asked, and around the room.

 

“I would suggest, keeping your heart open. But be careful. Creatures can be dangerous, even when they don’t appear to be. You must be patient, not only with the creatures in your care, but with yourself. You will make mistakes. Hopefully, none of them deadly, to beast or person. Don’t…don’t beat yourself up over it. Approach with confidence in yourself, but don’t be arrogant. Approach with love. Learn all that you can, while you’re here. You have some great professors at this school. All you really have to do is ask, and there will often be someone willing to answer your questions. I suppose…no, I mean this, actually. Write me, if you like. I cannot guarantee a swift reply, but I’ll do my best. It’s fine to be curious, but remember: be safe. Please please pleas be safe. Whether that means using the right equipment when handling a creature, or not going near one you can’t identify. There is so much to know. There are dozens of creatures I haven’t discovered, that maybe no one has. Take lots of notes. Be ready to be proven wrong. Believe in yourself. I’m quite sure each and every one of you is capable, moreso than you might believe at times. I think…I think that’s all the time we have.”

 

Newt stepped back from the podium to thunderous applause. His speech would later be noted as one of the most inspiring speeches ever given. Teachers would quote him for years. And even twenty years later, he would still receive mail from the students he had talked to that day. Whether they be requests for information, or long papers on studies of creatures. Many sent him Christmas cards. He had tea with at least one student a week for a very long time, even when they were no longer students, and he was no longer able to leave his house for more than an hour. He always wrote back, and he always followed up.

 

Newt Scamander was an inspiration, not only to the generation that followed him, but the many that followed, even after he passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got two requests after last chapter and I'm working on them now, but I'd love to get more. You guys are what keep me going. 
> 
> If you have to drive and live where it's snowing, please please please be careful. There was a 100+ car pileup on the highway near where I live the other day. Three people died. 
> 
> That's all for now, loves. <3 <3 <3


	12. Death of a Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pain of loss is too much for one to bear on their own. Siblings are a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops I'm a murderer. Guess that just shows what mood I was in when I wrote this. 
> 
> Request fill for DK1006511 
> 
> Carry On My Wayward Son - Kansas

Newt is crying freely. This is his mother’s funeral after all, he has the right. And if anyone has anything to say about it being effeminate, Katrina Scamander will be there with a well aimed hex. She isn’t above that, even as an heiress. She never has been, but today of all days, she will not hold back if necessary.

 

Theseus Scamander feels much the same, though if asked, he won’t say so. A mother’s death is a hard one to bear for all involved, but he knows that Newt suffers more than he or Katrina. Theseus always got along better with their father, and Katrina…Her younger sister was the light in her life, and she had passed many years ago. Now she threw herself into her work and her social life.

 

But Newt. Newt had always been a ‘momma’s boy’ as the phrase goes. No one said this in a spiteful way. It was simply that he got along best with his mother. And why shouldn’t he have? She was kind and gentle and always full of encouragements for the young boy who always seemed to be the odd one out. Newt was not like other children, but his mother loved him just the same and told him so. She filled his head with wonders as far as the heart could imagine and further, still. Newt received his love of all things wild and unruly from her as well.

 

The sickness had come on so suddenly; no one had seen it coming. Newt had rushed home the moment he had received the owl from his brother. He sat at his mother’s side and kept a smile pasted on at all times. He did not let it falter, even as he watched the strongest woman he had ever known crumble like scones. He told her stories and made her laugh. It was the most time he had gotten to spend with her in at least two years. Finally, on the third day of his homecoming, Lillian Scamander reached for her sons hand and looked him in the eyes.

 

“Newt.” She said softly.

 

“Yes, mum?” his eyes fixed on her and met her gaze as best they could.

 

“It’s time to go, I think.” she told him.

 

“Go where?” he had asked. No. No. It was too soon. They hadn’t had enough time. And she didn’t deserve to go like this.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Mum, please-”

 

“I have final words for you, my dear boy. Please listen.”

 

Newt closed his eyes. He had felt, in that moment, as though his heart had snapped in half and he could feel it. Really feel it. “Don’t I always?” he asked, opening his eyes and meeting his mother’s again.

 

“Don’t let this break you. Please, Newton. Please. I know it hurts. And I’m so sorry things have ended up such a mess. But do not let this be your undoing. You can’t. You can’t let it. You still have so much time left. So much good to do, that only you can do. You’re a giver, Newt. You give everything you’ve got.”

 

Newt felt the first of the tears fall and slowly make a track down his cheek. His mother clutched his hand tightly.

 

“Do not let anyone take it away from you, Newt.”

 

“Take what, mum?” he asked, voice cracking.

 

“The light in your eyes. Or in your heart. You’re passionate and good and you’ll always be that way. Don’t let anyone change that, alright?”

 

Newt nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

 

“And another thing. Don’t listen. When they tell you that it isn’t masculine to cry. When they tell you that your best is not good enough. When they tell you to give up, you tell them to shove it up their- well, you know. You’re a Scamander, which makes you strong and wise. But you’re also a Summerbee, and that makes you wild and passionate. People will tell you that you are too much, but it isn’t true. It isn’t true, my boy.”

 

Newt gave a watery smile.

 

“Remember this please, above all else my boy. You are a wildfire. You are fire. Passionate and burning and you cannot be contained. I love you. I love you.”

 

“I won’t forget mum. I promise.” Newt shook with emotion. His mother squeezed his hand one last time and closed her eyes. He wept openly.

 

Now here they were, days later, but it felt like minutes. Newt wasn’t sure what would be worse: watching his mother’s corpse be lowered into the ground, or the well wishers that would swarm him in a matter of hours at the wake he had no choice but to attend.

 

All good things must come to an end, he knew this. People were wont to die as they may, often without any reassuring explanation. He had not thought she would go like this, though. It wasn’t even raining. How could the skies not weep on a day like this? It was bright and warm and sunny. There was a light breeze. The day didn’t feel like one on which a person should be buried. His mother would have liked this best, though. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to be cold on this day.

 

Suddenly, Newt felt an arm on his shoulder. He glanced to his right and saw Theseus standing there, a soft expression on his face. Then, his left hand was clasped. When he looked over, it was Katrina. She smiled and nodded at him, clutching his hand tightly. Though they were older now and the world was quite different, Newt could not help but remember a day very similar to this. The snow had come down in droves four siblings became three. Newt, Katrina, and Theseus were all dressed in black. Little Margret in her coffin had been dressed in white.

 

Newt’s tears fell harder now, and Theseus reached for his empty hand. The three clutched at each other like they did so long ago. Katrina rested her head on Newt’s shoulder and he pulled her in close. They listened to the man speaking over their mother as he spoke her final rights and held each other as only siblings could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on the pile of requests I got yesterday. But I have a final or maybe two tomorrow so I don't know if I'll be able to post until Thursday. <3 <3 <3


	13. How You Do That Thing You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is sick. Jacob becomes mom, temporarily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for Jlcampo9 – Newt gets sick and Jacob has to take care of things.
> 
> Try Everything – Shakira  
> Mr. Mom - Lonestar 
> 
> Sorry that took so long guys. I have 3 more requests in the queue, and I should get at least one done before I leave the cafe today. I'm hoping to get another chapter of Lopegigrus finished too, but since there isn't really any demand for that one at all (except in my gay ass heart), we'll see.

The first day that Newt was sick, Jacob let him do his usual thing. He didn’t feel as though he had a choice; some of the creatures in their wonderful little home could be quite vicious when hungry. It was obvious, watching Newt, that he had done this before. He had a routine specifically for instances like these.

 

It made Jacob kind of sad to think about. Newt didn’t have anyone around for so long that he simply pushed through illness and did his good work anyway.

 

Newt fainted when he was done the second day. That was enough for Jacob. The next morning when Newt got up to start his usual work, Jacob pushed a mug of hot tea into his hand and helped him to sit back down.

 

“Jacob, love, what-”

 

“Hon, you gotta rest.”

 

Newt’s eyes went wide. He went to stand again. “Don’t be ridiculous Jacob. I have to take care of my beasts.”

 

Jacob pushed him back down gently.

  
“I’ve got it under control.”

 

Newt sputtered, “What- wh- no! You can’t- you don’t have the- No. No.”

 

Jacob didn’t even let Newt try to get up this time. He put a heavy hand on his shoulder, keeping him in bed.

  
“Doll, I been watchin’ you for months. If anyone other than you can care for your crazy creatures, it’s me. And don’t you even think about trying to argue with me on this one, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.”

 

Newt flushed at the usage of his full name. He looked away, a grumpy expression on his face. “It isn’t that I don’t have faith in you, Jacob-”

 

“Well that’s good. I’m glad you’ve got faith in me, I was afraid we were gonna have to have an argument about this. I’m glad it only took a few moments for ya to come to your senses.”

 

Newt was full on pouting now. He crossed his arms, setting the mug of tea down with a **_THUNK_**. “Jacob, I will not let you baby me. I’m a grown man, and I have work to do.”

 

“You sure?” Jacob asked.

 

“Yes, I-”

  
“ ’Cause to me you look about five right now. Just a heads up, those puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.” Jacob shook his head.

 

Newt gaped. Jacob picked the mug back up and handed it to Newt again. “Drink your tea.”

 

“Jacobbbb.” Yes, he was definitely bordering on whiney at this point.

 

“Newt.” Jacob said, smiling.

 

“You can’t make me stay in bed.” Newt sniffled. “It’s my suitcase, and I’ll- I’ll do as I please.”

 

Ah, there it was. They had reached full tilt: whiney Newt. It was official.

 

“Listen, I’ll tie you down if I have to.” Jacob said frankly.

 

Newt raised an eyebrow at him, smirking.

 

Jacob facepalmed. “Not like that, smart-ass.”

 

“You can’t tie me up, I have my wand.” Newt said defiantly.

 

It was Jacob’s turn to smirk. “Do you really, though?”

 

“Yes!” Newt said.

 

“Are ya sure about that?”

 

Newt looked very much **not** sure, for a moment.

 

“You did not.”

 

“I’m afraid so. I had a feeling you’d be difficult about this.”

 

Newt scrambled around, looking for his wand. It was nowhere to be found. He gaped at Jacob as though he had personally injured him.  

 

“Your tea is probably getting cold.” Jacob turned to head out the door, but glanced back. “And I wouldn’t suggest testing me on this, Newt. You won’t like the outcome. Rest.” And then he was out the door.

 

Newt groaned and fell back into his pillows. Might as well accept his fate, then. Jacob didn’t look much like he wanted to be tested today. And hadn’t he been right? Of course Jacob could handle a day or two of caring for the creatures. Newt had taught him well, after all.

 

Jacob, to be honest, had a little less faith in himself than Newt did. It couldn’t be that hard though, right? Besides, he really didn’t have a choice. If he admitted defeat, Newt would have to get up and do everything, and that would probably be a disaster.

 

Jacob tried to follow the same routine as Newt. He stopped by the erumpent first and fed her, as well as exercised her. You would think that after what he went through in Central Park with the creature, he would be terrified of her and not want to go anywhere near her. You would be wrong. Jacob’s fear was easily overshadowed after the first week or so of living with Newt. What overshadowed it? The beauty of the beast. At first glance, the erumpent didn’t appear to be graceful or gentle, but in reality, she was. His “gentle giant” Newt often called her. Jacob couldn’t agree more.

 

“I’ve gotta go see ev’ry body else, alright? Thanks for not givin’ me much trouble this morning.” Jacob patted her horn softly and smiled. Then, he was off to the occamies.

 

If the erumpent was a gentle giant, the occamies were tiny terrors. It wasn’t so much that Jacob was scared of them, just that they seemed to enjoy causing him trouble. In a cute, adoring kind of way, so that he couldn’t even really be annoyed about it. Newt absolutely **never** saw this behavior. He also didn’t believe Jacob. In Newt’s eyes the occamies were perfect little fanged angels.

 

As such, they of course caused plenty of trouble when he was feeding them that morning. Firstly, they turned their noses up at the food he brought (several dead rats). Then, when Jacob finally gave up and found them something different to eat, they refused that too. It turned out they did want the rats after all. When they had finished eating and Jacob had been about to move on to his next task, they tangled themselves into a knot. He was certain this wasn’t normal or healthy behavior, so he helped them to untangle. Only, of course, for them to wrap themselves around his legs and trip him.

 

“Patty! Richard! Tavia! Knock that off! Come on guys, Penelope, don’t you dare-“

 

Jacob loved them, but Merlin, they were aggravating little brats sometimes.

 

When he was finally done untangling himself and setting each occamy back in its nest, he moved on to check on Dougal, who was, blessedly, asleep. The bowtruckles were all playing around in their tree quite peacefully, even Pickett. He gave them some wood lice and moved onto the next habitat.

 

The graphorns were happy to see Jacob. They were even happier to see the food he brought. The little ones had started growing and were almost as big as their parents now. One wrapped its face tentacles around Jacob’s shoulders, bringing him in for a hug.

 

“Hey Nicolette.” He said softly, beaming. He petted her gently. It was hard to believe he’d been afraid of these creatures when he had first met them.

 

The rest of the day went as planned and ran on schedule. Until, of course, Jacob realized that the Niffler was absolutely nowhere to be found. After checking every habitat, he was ready to give up. He was disappointed in himself, no doubt Newt would be as well. He entered the tiny little hut and headed towards the bedroom. He stopped in his tracks, when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the Niffler. It was sitting on Newt’s workbench, stuffing it’s pocket with spoons and anything else shiny it could find.

 

It made an ‘uh-oh’ face when it saw Jacob, but continued to shove a small cauldron into it’s pouch. Jacob groaned and began walking towards it. Thus, the chase ensued.

 

The tiny little bastard led Jacob through all of the habitats. Seriously. Every. Freakin. One. Jacob was worn out by now, and a few other creatures had decided to join the chase. Dougal the demiguise was right on Jacob’s tail. Three or four mooncalfs were after him, followed by a pair of chirping fwoopers. A singular diricawl chick was running too.

 

Newt didn’t find anything too strange about the niffler entering the bedroom. He had had a fairly restful day, and had only woken up from a nap a few minutes prior. He was yawning and thinking about getting up to get a book when Jacob and the rest of the creatures following him skidded to a halt in front of him as well. Well. Jacob skidded to a halt. The rest of them crashed into him. Needless to say, there was a Jacob and creature heap on the floor. Newt stared for a moment. Jacob thought he might yell.

 

Instead, Newt burst into a laughing fit that turned into a coughing fit, and in short order, he was on top of the heap on the floor.

 

“Not as easy as you thought?” He asked Jacob, eyes brimming with amused tears, when he finally caught his breath.

 

“Not. Even. Close. How do you do it?”

 

“I’ve no idea.” Newt admitted, shaking his head.  


	14. Always With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt misses Tina. But she’s always there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for Waistcoat35 
> 
> Fire and the Flood – Vance Joy
> 
> Really enjoyed writing this. Just a heads up, my graduation is tomorrow and I have DnD all day today. Then exams again Monday. So probably the earliest for a new chapter will be Monday evening. Hope this tides everyone over. <3 <3 <3

Another morning he’s woken up and she is not there. She is thousands of miles away. She does not love him.

 

That last one could be wrong. How would he know? Newt hasn’t seen Tina Goldstein in months. He hasn’t had the nerve to deliver his book to her yet and has a drawer full of letters he’s written yet…has not sent.

 

After how south things went with Leta, it makes him nervous. The idea of admitting feelings for another human being. Humans are so difficult. She **seems** like she likes him, but what if she doesn’t? What if this is just a fantasy. It is completely plausible that he has read the signs wrong. It is possible she was just being nice to him in New York, when he was about to board that boat.

 

He cannot help but see her everywhere though. In a shop in Diagon Alley. In the café with his sister. At the ministry filling out forms for this and that. She is even at Gringotts when he is depositing his first payment for his book.

 

Only, she isn’t. How can she be? Tina Goldstein is far away. But she feels close. He remember how good a person she is and it warms him. He remembers the kind words she has said to him and he feels lighter. It is not often possible to change a person’s viewpoint. But Newt seems to have succeeded. Tina Goldstein said she loved the swooping evil. Told him in general she loved creatures. And in return, Tina seems to have opened Newt’s heart to something he has not felt in nearly a decade or more.

 

Love and longing. If he loves her so much, though…if he wants to be at her side so badly, why doesn’t he send the letters? Or better yet, why doesn’t he hand deliver his book? Rejection is painful, and even with his heart newly opened to possibilities, it is still scarred and aching from the past. He was not a Gryfindor, he reminds himself on the days it hurts the most. It is okay that he is not brave; he has other qualities.

 

\--

 

What Newt does not know is that there is a beautiful sable haired beauty with the same worries and questions. Porpentina Goldstein is in London. She is not there to find Newt Scamander though.

 

He has not sent her a single letter. His book has been out for two months, and he has not come to find her as he said he would.

Tina hasn’t sent any letter either, though. She has a drawer full. One every few days. She wants to tell him about her days, but she cannot bring herself to send them. What if he had just being kind to her? She feels him in her bones though. He has made her feel useful. He has made her feel as though she has a purpose. She has become more introspective than ever these last few months.

 

But she was not in London for Newt. Queenie, her lovely sister, had regained Jacob Kowalski’s love quite easily. He had regained his memory of her. They can’t stay in the United States. Queenie sometimes bitterly calls them the States of Separation. She does not think their segregation policies are fair. So she and Jacob have come to London to settle down and find a home. Jacob was sad to leave his bakery, but he sold it (without the name) for a decent sum and can start another one in London, if he wants. He does want. Queenie and he have been working together on some new concoctions and there is a very good chance they will open a bakery together in Diagon Alley.

 

Tina has come along to help them settle and make sure their paperwork is in order. She is shocked to find the laws here so lax; not only do they allow muggles and witches to marry, they appear to have no laws about wand permits. They are a trusting people, even after all the pain Grindelwald has caused them.

 

Shortly after arriving and helping Queenie and Jacob settle, Tina finds herself without a job. The letter arrives by owl, informing her that not only is she being fired from her position as an auror for duplicity and treason, but should she arrive back in the States anytime soon, she will be arrested. She is shocked. Queenie is shocked. Jacob swears.

 

She cannot go home. Then again, home is where the heart is, isn’t it? Her heart lies with her sister and her fiancé. And Newt Scamander, of course. As far as she knows, all three of those people remain in London. She is almost positive she has seen him. In Madam Malkins, to get new clothes. When she is at lunch by herself one day. At the bank, when she is starting an account. She might have even seen him when she was going to her interview at the ministry.

 

They hired her on the spot, of course.

  
“The Americans were fools to let you go, Ms. Goldstein. Your work is superb. You are a very talented witch. Then again, if you don’t mind my saying so, MACUSA has a lot of very backwards laws and views in general. Welcome to the Ministry, Ms. Goldstein. We are so happy to have you. When can you start?”

 

She had started days later. She was on lunch right now. Thinking about Newt Scamander again. She hated herself for that. He hadn’t written. Why did she think he cared. She sighed, walking with her eyes downcast.

Another person was walking down the street, eyes downcast as well. They crashed into one another. They both fell to the ground.

 

“So sorry about that. I’m afraid I had something else on my mind, wasn’t watching where I was-…going…” Tina looks up and there is a hand there, proffered most likely to help her up. She takes it. Then she sees who the hand is connected to and she almost lets go out of shock.

 

“New- Newt- er. Mr. Scamander. Hello. What brings you here?” she asks, fixing her pants and dusting off her jacket. She adjusts her hat. She does not make eye contact.

 

Newt stares at her. “I…I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Goldstein. I…I live in London. Last I checked you resided in New York City.” He does not make eye contact either.

 

“Well you haven’t checked lately, then, have you.” She does not mean to sound angry. She is not angry. She is hurt. She supposes that is somewhat hypocritical of her, since she hasn’t written him either. She is still holding his hand. She drops it and takes a step backwards.

 

Newt coughs. “That’s…I cannot argue with that. I’m…I’m sorry, I-“

 

“No, I shouldn’t have- I know you’re very busy. A best selling author now, aren’t you?” she asked. They both continue to not make eye contact.

 

“Oh. I. Yes. But that doesn’t mean… I should have at least written.”

 

“I didn’t write you either.” She tries to excuse him with this. “Well I did write you, but I didn’t actually send…” she trails off. Tina tends to talk too much when she is nervous. She is currently very nervous.

 

“Oh.” Newt says. He sounds bright. She looks up. He has a smile on his face. A look of relief.

 

“What?” she asks.

 

Newt looks up and meets her eyes now as well. “It’s just that I’ve written you so many letters I had to get another drawer for them I just…never sent them…”

 

They are both laughing. Newt’s arms go wide. Tina takes this as an invitation, and they are soon wrapped in each-other’s arms, hugging tightly. Tears roll down both sets of cheeks and passersby cannot tell if they are happy tears or sad ones.

 

They are both.

 

Newt and Tina have lunch together and talk about life. Tina is late back to work, but has an excuse in hand. Newt is holding her hand when they apparate back into her office. Theseus Scamander is walking in to berate his latest employee, only to see her making eyes at his brother. He does not say anything, but walks away, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a nice weekend everyone! <3


	15. By My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina have a...discussion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NewTina
> 
> Cheerleader - Omi 
> 
> Enjoy. Thank you for being patient with me in my updates.

Days like there were hard. The occamies were sick. The erumpent was in season again, and Newt wasn’t any closer to finding her a mate, or somewhere safe to release her where she could find her own. The chapter on north American thunderbirds just wasn’t coming out the way he wanted it to. His toast had been burnt and the café was out of the tea he liked. The list of frustrating or disappointing things that had happened today went on and on and on.

Newt came home from his office at the Ministry to find Tina ready and waiting with mug of hot tea and steaming plate of the best smelling food. Tina. Tina made everything better. She was always there, waiting in the wings with love and compassion.

“Rough day?” She asked, setting a plate of food before him.

“You’ve no idea.” Newt told her, reaching for the fork with a small sigh. It was some mix of pleasure and exhaustion.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” The American witch asked, “Anything I can help with?”

“You help just by existing, Tina.” He was eating now, but kept talking, “Mira is in season again, and I still have no idea where to- I mean, obviously I have ideas as to where to find her a mate. But I don’t know if the ministry will let me go on an expedition right now, what with Grindelwald being a terror here. They’d say it was frivolous and-” Newt was interrupted by a feeling of sheer relaxation. Tina had started digging into his tense muscles.

“Newt. You work for the ministry on a consulting basis. You don’t have to stay. And frankly…you come home so tired every time you go in, honey. I’m not sure you should keep it up. They don’t seem to take much of your advice anyway.”

Newt took the time while Tina talked to gulp at his tea and swallow more food.

“Hey!” she said as he was about to put his fourth fork of food in thirty seconds into his mouth.

“What?” Newt asked.

Tina sighed. “Keep eating that fast and you’re gonna get hiccups.” She told him. Newt looked away from her and set his fork down, reaching for his cup of tea again.

“I just don’t think leaving right now is the best idea Tina. What about…I mean. I would not want to leave you here alone.”

“So take me with you!” Tina stopped rubbing his shoulders and sat down at a chair across the table from him, scowling a bit.

“Tina. I’m not taking you to Africa.” Newt told her, shaking his head and going for his fork again.

“And whys that?” his lovely wife crossed her arms. Oh Merlin. She was just spoiling for a fight, wasn’t she?

Newt set his fork down. “Tina, love, I would think the reasons would be quite obvious…” he looked at her, then looked away, gesturing.

Tina squinted at him. “Oh? No. I don’t really see it, Newt. Maybe you could explain it to me.” Her tone was deathly cold. Bollox.

“Porpentina. Please, be reasonable. Think of…think of your condition, please won’t you?”

Tina pursed her lips. Hell, that was the final step. Newt was positive he was a dead man.

“Condition. **Condition? _CONDITION?!_** Newton Artemis **Fido** Scamander, why, I oughta- I am **pregnant,** not _dying!_ My sister! Queenie! Queenie worked full time at the bakery when she was pregnant! Are you saying I, a trained auror, am less strong and qualified than Queenie!”

“No, dear, of course not. That isn’t what I-“

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Tina arched her brows at him.

“You’re my wife and I love you with all of my heart and I do not want to put you in danger. Africa is dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine.” Tina told him.

Newt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What about your job, Tina?”

“I’ll quit. Or I’ll take a leave of absence. I’m pregnant. And if they don’t accept that, I’ll just go on sabbatical.”

“To search for erumpents in Africa?” Newt asked, raising an eyebrow at his lovely wife.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you want to do. No, Newt, **Newton** do not look at me like that. I’m not an idiot. And I’m not a sadist either. You hate being all cooped up like this, going to work as a consultant for the ministry. So why are we doing it?”

“I want to take care of you, Tina.” Newt sighed. “I want to make you happy and give you everything you could ever dream for.”

“Well, right now, I’m dreaming of watching my husband find his erumpent a mate. I’m dreaming of watching the sunrise and staring at the stars with him. I love watching you work Newt. Let me?”

Newt sighed and went quiet for a while, lost in his thoughts.

Of course Tina could handle it. She was Tina, after all. What if something went wrong though? Newt couldn’t bare the possibility that his wife would get hurt. He knew from experience, however, that Tina would not let this go.

Finally, Newt looked up and grasped Tina’s hands in his, looking into her eyes as best he could. She looked back into his, a defiant light in her eyes.

  
“You’ll tell me right away if you’re not feeling well, or if you want to come home, won’t you?” he asked.

Tina nodded. “Yes, of course. I just want to try, Newt. I want to try for you.”

Newt gazed lovingly at his lovely wife. She had one of the biggest hearts of any person he had ever met. She was always right behind him, supporting him every step of the way. No. Not behind him. At his side would be a more accurate statement. She was right there, ready to face whatever he faced. He loved her and could not imagine the world without her.

“Alright then. I suppose we should start planning for this trip, then. Tell me, Tina, have you ever been to Africa before?”


	16. Me too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt has been gone a few months, and is back to visit. Jacob asks for advice and they're both happier for it, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's A Dance - John Michael Montgomery 
> 
> Request Fill - How Jacob and Newt got together. I'd had this in my head for a while but it wasn't until you said something that I decided to write it. I hope you enjoy!

Jacob was pacing the floor in the apartment above his bakery. Newt was sitting at the kitchen table, watching.

 

“I just don’t know what to do, Newt.”

 

“You still haven’t explained what the problem is, Jacob. I cannot help if I don’t know what the problem is.”

 

Jacob sat down in the kitchen chair across from Newt at the table. “How do you know when you’re in love?”

 

Newt choked. His arm jerked and he nearly knocked over the cup of tea in front of him. He had just been wondering the same thing, watching Jacob pace back and force. Had Jacob picked up on it? He had been hoping it was inconspicuous…

 

“I’m…sorry?” Newt asked, moving the mug of tea away from himself so he couldn’t spill it.

 

Jacob sighed, taking a swig from his own mug, which was filled with black coffee. Newt shuddered every time he thought about it.

 

“I just. I don’t know. I think. I think I’m in love, and I have no idea what to do. Do I say something to the other person? Do I figure it out first? What if I say something and they don’t like me back?”

 

Ahhhh. Jacob was talking about Queenie. Newt was safe. He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

 

“There was this girl back in my school days, you know. And of course every kid thinks they’re in love at some point but I don’t…I’ve never been one with the ladies, so I don’t know if…I mean I never even told her. She moved away in tenth grade. And I never said anything to her and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

 

Newt was only half listening. Jacob was a sweet, intelligent, funny man. Of course he had fallen for him. How could he not? Who in their right mind wouldn’t? It was fairly obvious that Queenie had a thing for Jacob. Hell, even Tina seemed like she might like him to some degree…

 

“Newt?” Jacob asked.   
  
Newt looked up. “I’m sorry, I was…you were saying, about a girl when you were in school?”

 

“Right.” Jacob said. “She moved away and she never came back and I never had a chance ‘cause I kept my mouth shut.”

 

“What for?” Newt asked, not even thinking.

 

“Whaddya mean?” Jacob looked puzzled.

 

“I just mean.” Newt cleared his throat, trying to think of how to word it.

 

“You’re a likeable person, Jacob. You’re funny, and you have a big heart, and you’re fairly attractive. Why didn’t you tell her?”

 

Jacob guffawed. “Me? Attractive? HA! No no no, Newt. I’m not.”

 

Newt made a face. “I meant that, Jacob. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

 

Jacob gulped and blushed profusely. Why? Newt’s eyebrows knit together.

 

“I dunno. H- AHEM She. She’s pretty fantastic.”

 

“Oh? Tell me about her.” Newt suggested. He already knew Jacob was talking about Queenie. Why was he beating around the bush about it?

 

“Oh god…h-she’s gorgeous. Really nice eyes, and nice **on** the eyes. Big big heart, like you wouldn’t believe. H-She’ll be gone soon though, if I don’t say something. Walked outta my life for a bit but I…I kinda made that choice, didn’t I? But Now she’s back and I don’t wanna ruin it. But I. I’m almost certain it’ll end in heart break. They’d never want a guy like me. Hell, I’m not even sure h-she likes men.”

 

Newt stared at Jacob. “Jacob, I hate to seem…insensitive to your anxieties, but…I am fairly certain we are both aware of how in love with you Queenie is. It is unlikely you need to worry about her preferring women? You really should just tell her.”

 

Jacob blinked at him blankly.   
  
“I’m not talkin’ about Queenie.” He said, clearing his throat and looking away.

 

“Oh.” Said Newt. They both drank more of their beverages.

 

“Well you should still tell her. Whoever she is, I’m sure she’d be happy to have you. You’re a wonderful catch.” Newt told him, not making eye contact.

 

“But what if…what if I’m not actually interested in a woman, Newt.” Jacob was shaking a bit.

 

Newt’s breath caught. He coughed. “Well, America seems to be quite progressive. I- no I lied. America doesn’t seem to be progressive at all, especially not in the field of romances between different sorts of people. Still. Jacob, what is the worst that could happen? If you love this woman – man…whichever. You’ll never know how they feel unless you’re direct. It’ll haunt you for the rest of your days. You’ll never know and it’ll kill you inside.” He coughed. “Not that I’m…speaking from experience or anything.” He mumbled under his breath.

 

“He’s my friend.” Jacob was holding his coffee mug in his shaking hands. “I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

 

“He’d have to be a complete arse to not want to be your friend anymore over what gender you fancy, Jacob. In which case he’s not right for you anyway.”

 

Newt frowned. Jacob deserved better. Maybe if this man didn’t work out…he might have a chance? No. No, that was wrong to think. It wasn’t fair of Newt to wish for whoever Jacob was in love with to fail him in such a way. It was a selfish thought.

 

“So just. Tell him. That’s what you’re sayin’ I gotta do?”

 

Newt nodded. “To be sure, yes. And if this man is about to go away…you should tell him as soon as possible. It isn’t exactly the kind of thing one wants to reveal in a letter.” Newt told him.

 

“So I should tell him…” Jacob’s eyes darted around the room. “Like now.”

 

Newt nodded, getting to his feet. He finished his tea quickly. “Yes, Jacob. If he’s accessible, right now. I- I’ll go, give you a chance to go find him…”

 

Newt had turned his back on Jacob, and was heading for the stairs. His heart was breaking and he wasn’t even sure why. He shook his head. Jacob was a muggle, anyway. It wouldn’t have worked out…He felt a warm hand on his wrist. He turned back around.

 

“Jacob? Don’t you want to-“ he was cutoff mid-sentence.

 

“Newt Scamander I am. Absolutely in love with you.” Jacob said.

 

Newt blinked. Jacob dropped his hand and turned away, putting his head in his hands.   
  
“God I’m sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t have- Newt I’m so sorry I-“

 

Newt was gaping. He took a moment, then; “Wait. You meant. Me? Me?? You’re in love with me?” he couldn’t believe it.

 

“I know I- I shouldn’t have- it wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean to upset you I just thought- You’re leaving in a few days and I- god I’m selfish. I wish I hadn’t said-”

 

“Me too.”

Jacob turned back to look at Newt. “I’m sorry.”  


Newt was grinning. Jacob wondered why Newt was grinning.

 

“You misunderstand me, Jacob. I didn’t mean... ‘me too I wish you hadn’t told me’ I meant: ‘me too, I’m in love with you. In love with you too.’” Newt licked his lips nervously. He fidgeted and played with his fingers.

 

Jacob laughed.

 

Newt did not.

 

“This has gotta be April Fools.” Jacob shook his head.

 

Newt looked Jacob in the eye. “What is April Fools?” he asked.

 

“It’s…it’s like this. It’s a holiday. First of April. People play jokes and tricks on their friends.”

 

Newt frowned. “That sounds horrible.” He thought a moment, “And it isn’t the first of April, either…I…I mean what I said, Jacob.”

 

“You couldn’t have.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“What do you mean why not? Because I’m…” Jacob gestured at himself, “And you’re…you’re all that.” He waved in Newt’s direction now.

 

Newt wasn’t making eye contact now. “I…I’m not actually sure what you mean by that.” He looked hurt. He felt hurt. He wasn't sure he was supposed to, but…

 

“I mean you’re great, Newt. You’re smart and you have passion and a big heart and you’re handsome and fuck- you’re perfect. Whyd someone like that ever wanna be with someone like me?”

 

Newt looked up, glaring. “No. Don’t you dare. What is that even supposed to mean? ‘someone like’ you? Jacob you’re brilliant. I won’t have this self deprecating nonsense. You’re a gem. I meant it the first day I met you and I said people must like you. You’re friendly and kind and- and you have passion too, you know! If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be in the apartment above your bakery! People love you, here, Jacob. You’re so creative and full of life and good. And talk about handsome, ha! You’re an eleven, at least!” Newt flushed, looking away again.

 

Jacob was also flushing.

 

“You really think all that about me?”

 

“Do you think I’m one to lie about things, Jacob?” Newt asked.

 

Jacob shook his head. Both men stared at their feet for a time. Then, Jacob cleared his throat. Newt looked up. Jacob took a few steps toward him.

 

They looked into each-other’s eyes for a few more moments. Jacob bit at his lip and looked like he was psyching himself up for something.

 

“I uh…um. Any chance I could…uh, I mean. Is it…isitalrightifikissyou?” the question came out in a rush. It was obvious he’d been wanting to ask for a while.

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Newt murmured.   


Jacob had to stand on his tip toes to kiss Newt, and that was perhaps a bit embarrassing for him. But he didn’t really care, and so he did it.

  
Queenie was outside the bakery. She’d been on her way to tell Jacob he should just tell Newt. But it seemed he already had. She got a glimpse of both their brains and flushed, hurrying away. She beamed. Finally. That had taken long enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleep bloop blop. I'm down to one request left. Anybody else? Christmas is coming and Solstice was yesterday, so if you have a request thats not Newt/somebody else, let me know and I just might fill it anyway. <3 <3 <3


	17. Holy Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy Ground - Taylor Swift
> 
> All the places that were special. All the love that fills them. 
> 
> From Leta’s perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different in this chapter, you might not like it but it’s a story arc that’s been in my head for ages. I wanted to write it and I did. If you hate it, so be it. I warned you. If you like it…well...I’m considering writing a whole fic about it.

She hadn’t known how badly it would hurt, in the end.

The floor in the corner of the Hufflepuff common room. Where they had shared their first conversation. Where Leta had first really looked into those bright eyes and hell…she had seen what actual love looked like for the first time. Not the romantic kind, no. Just love. The Lestrange family was loyal to it’s members but that didn’t mean there was love. Newt Scamander was warm, though, and full of life and compassion and had love to spare for a crying girl. Leta sits here sometimes after Newt is expelled, late at night, remembering that night. Remembering the day she met her best friend.

She still loves him.

Platform 9 ¾. This is where they had all of their hellos. This is where they had most of their goodbyes. This is where she threw her arms around his neck and shouted how in love she was with him, the beginning of their fifth year. She did this for all to hear and see and she didn’t care. She did not care who heard or saw. Let them stare. Let them gossip. Newt Scamander was worth a million beatings and twenty howlers and all the dirty looks from Slytherins passing in corridors. He made her feel warm. He made her feel like she was worth it and like she could do anything. Be anything. She could rise above it all, with Newt Scamander at her side. He made her want to be the best version of herself.

She cannot have him.

The highest astronomy tower. This is where they studied the stars. This is where Leta studied every freckle on Newt’s body. This is where Newt learned more than he had ever wanted to know about anatomy. She still didn’t know how he’d felt about that. She never would know, now. It was a relatively cold evening near the middle of term sixth year, when they decided to give all of themselves to one another. It was awkward and unplanned and wonderful.  She still can’t believe they were never caught. She still cannot believe how wonderful it felt to have him there with her in that moment.

Sometimes she questions whether she ever really loved him, or if, in fact, she just loved the attention.

The Great Hall. They shared their first real kiss here. The rumors had been too much to bear, their fifth year. No one could decide if Newt and Leta were dating or not. After hearing one too many mutterings, Leta had dragged Newt up to the front of the hall on lunch period. She had pulled him close and kissed him fully. There were whistles. There were jeers. Newt had been so red in the face. “Young love” teachers had laughed. “Disgusting little whore.” Her sister had called her.

She remembers the warmth he brought her, even in the winter.

Hogsmede was butterbeer and candy and snowfall. They’d held hands long before they were more than friends. Leta would slip on the ice. Newt would hold her up. He had wanted to keep her safe from the very first. He had offered her shelter in all storms. It was in Hogsmede a week before Christmas break their fourth year when he had asked her to come home with him. She had been shocked. “I don’t want you to come back from the holiday with more bruises and scars…” he had muttered. She had almost gone. But her sister had ratted her plans out to her parents and she was given no opportunity, snatched up the moment the train docked in Kings Cross. Newt tended her wounds when she returned and brought her mountains of homemade cakes and pies from his mother. This was where he offered her his home for the summer. She declined this time, not wanting to incur more wrath. This was the day things started to change.

She needed to protect herself. That was why she had grown cold and distant. It was obvious that her love for Newt was a blemish on the family name and was the cause of all her pain. She didn’t resent him at first. She couldn’t blame him for this. It was not his doing. But she grew bitter. She grew defensive and cold. And when Newt took the fall for her, sixth year, she let him. She did not thank him. She did not tell him goodbye. She burned his letters. She injured his owl, once, even.

The doorstep of her family’s home. Where she had shunned him and told him to leave her forever. When he arrived one warm summer day, fearing for her life. He had assumed it was her family keeping her from him. He was wrong. She told him as much. She needed to protect herself. She needed to protect him. The fool would get himself killed if he kept this up. She didn’t hate him, she just feared what he wrought. She never left the house when she told him goodbye. She hid her swollen belly behind the door, and only showed her face. She told him many cruel things she did not mean. If it got the boy to leave, then so be it. 

Her life was a train wreck, she decided. The only good thing it had been Newt, and then, after, the child. He was raised as her brother until she was old enough to leave. She fought then. She didn’t have a choice. She died fighting. Newt Scamander and Adelphus Lestrange were never the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to do something I usually don't: post a second update tonight. To make up for the large number of you that probably hate this chapter and what it implies.


	18. Still Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina are still in love. It's disgusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still Into You - Paramore
> 
> Request fill - Wildeisms, I know it's short but I'm hoping it fits what you were looking for. Forgive me for length, I have a migraine this evening.

Newt still fell in love over and over again every time he saw her. He still got butterflies, thinking about her. They had been married four years and he still fell apart when she walked by.

 

His sister Katrina liked to tease him about this, frequently.

 

“You just don’t understand, Katrina…She’s amazing. She takes my breath away, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over that she’s mine. That she wanted me, of all people…”

 

Katrina stared at him over her wine glass. They were at another family party. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

“If you think I don’t know what you go through, Newt, I think you might have forgotten meeting **my** wife...” Katrina glanced over Newt’s shoulder to see her own lovely Mrs., chatting with Tina. Newt followed her gaze, and when his eyes fell on Tina, his heart swelled.

 

“She’s just so great.” He murmured.

 

“Yeah she is.” Katrina agreed. They were both talking about entirely different women.

 

Tina looked up from her conversation and caught Newt’s eye. She smiled. She turned back to the other Mrs. Scamander and said something Newt couldn’t make out. Then she made her way towards Newt.

 

He gulped.

 

“Porpentina.” He said, using her “society” name. It was what his parents and brother called Tina. It was her full name, to be fair, she just didn’t go by it often.

 

“Newton.” She quipped back.

 

“Hi.” Newt stared into her eyes.

 

“Hi…” Tina stared back.

 

Katrina cleared her throat. “Well, this has been lovely. Really sickeningly sweet. Nauseating, really. I think I’ll leave you two to keep staring at each other like teenagers.” She set her wine glass down and wandered off. Newt flushed. Tina laughed.

 

“Hey.” She said after a moment. “Do you wanna dance?”

 

“Oh. Well. I. Uh, yes. That sounds…agreeable.” Newt could feel the butterflies in his stomach.

 

Tina didn’t look convinced. “Did you have something else in mind, _dear?_ ”

 

Newt blinked. “What? Oh. No. I…I was just.” He sat down in a chair at the table he had been standing near. “You’re just so stunning.” He told her, massaging his temples.

 

Tina snorted.

 

“What, really?” Tina sat down beside him. “Is it possible? Have I got Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, bestselling author…Magizoologist, Order of Merlin Second Class…flustered? Is that even possible?” she was grinning.

 

Newt looked up at her. “Tina I am. Ridiculously in love with you.”

 

Tina stared back lovingly. “Well, I would hope so. Otherwise your parents spent a lot of money on a wedding for no reas-”

 

Newt had realized a few years prior that the best way to shut up a teasing Tina was to kiss her. So he did just that; he kissed his lovely wife deeply.   
  
A couple walked by and a woman muttered, “Why don’t you kiss me like that anymore, Bernard?” she sounded absolutely livid.

 

When Newt and Tina pulled apart, Tina looked scandalized. “Mr. Scamander! We are in a public setting!” she hissed, hand over her heart as though she might at any moment faint from shock.

 

“Oh, poppycock, Mrs. Scamander,” –  how he relished being able to call her that – “It was a little peck, and we are married, my dear.”

  
Tina couldn’t play along anymore and began to giggle. She shook her head, smiling. “We are going to give some little old lady a heart attack, Newt. Really.”

 

Newt shrugged his shoulders. “Oh I very much doubt it. Great Aunt Liza was able to bear Katrina marrying a woman, I think she handle seeing two consenting **married** adults kiss.” He rested his chin on one hand and tilted his head to the side staring at Tina. “You look very nice tonight, by the way.” His heart beat hard in his chest.

 

“You don’t look half bad yourself. Your tie is a bit askew, but-”

 

Newt sat up fully and began fiddling with his bowtie. Shock and concern was all over his face.

“Oh. Oh sweetie, no. I was teasing. I was teasing. Your bowtie looks fine. It’s fine, you look fine.” Tina tried to calm him down.

 

Newt looked stricken.

 

“Oh honey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have…I’m so sorry.” She was trying not to laugh.

 

“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t be laughing at me.” Newt pouted like a petulant child.

 

Tina snorted, then laughed outright. After a few moments of boisterous laughter, she wiped a tear from under her eye. “Oh. Oh. Newt. Newt.”

 

“What?” he sulked a bit.

 

“I’m sorry honey you…you’re just really cute when you pout like that. It reminds me of the niffler.” Tina was once again consumed in a fit of giggles.

 

Newt sniffed, looking away.

 

“Oh. Oh. Sweet sweet man.” Tina shook her head, wiping away another tear. She stood up and offered him her hand.  “Let me make it up to you. Come on; dance with me?”

 

Newt obliged.

 

You would have thought that after more than four years of being together romantically, Newt would have gotten better at dancing. Not that he wasn’t good. He just…always stepped on Tina’s feet. She thought it was the cutest thing in the world. Newt thought it was the most embarrassing thing in the world. He still danced, though. He knew it made Tina happy, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it too.

 

The song changed to something more upbeat, and Newt was humming along as they danced.

 

“I don’t think they’ll ever grow out of the honeymoon phase.” Theseus muttered into his wine glass.

 

“Don’t be so bitter, Theseus. You’ll find yours.” Katrina elbowed her brother gently. She wrapped her arm around her wife’s waist. Theseus made a sound of disgust. He downed the rest of his wine in one deep gulp and walked away from them.

 

Newt spun Tina around the floor; other couples got out of their way, knowing of Newt’s two left feet. The two were so in love they were oblivious to the rest of the world.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this makes up for 17.


	19. Sleeping Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Completely incoherent drabble about Newt and Credence. Heavy emotional angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this is so incoherent with the song I was listening to. It's sweet and sad and I'm sure you'll all like it, but it could have been written better. 
> 
> Flaws- Bastille 
> 
> For my friend Casey who tried to give me a prompt to remove my head from the fog of depression. I think this made it worse, oops.

They were difficult men. Newt was difficult. Credence was difficult. They weren’t…difficult. They were different. They had had difficult lives. Newt’s may have been easier, on the surface, but it wasn’t fun being the outcast. Even if being the outcast had it’s perks…even if you were happy being the way you were. 

And poor Credence. He had always tried so hard to be everything except what he was. That was what had gotten him into the situation that Tina, and then, Newt, had found him in. One couldn’t really blame the boy, though. He hadn’t known at first. And he hadn’t been taught how to properly manage emotions. No one blamed Credence. No one blamed Newt, either. 

The two found one another; and in the end, that was what mattered. Newt, ever cheerful with his lot, outwardly expressive of his emotions and passions. Then, Credence, timid and hurting and hiding it, doing his best to get by. They made for quite an interesting pair; in the streets, and in the sheets, as they say. 

Newt would walk down the streets, talking excitedly with his hands. Credence would follow, carrying Newt’s case, because “It’s the least I can do, Mr. Scamander.” 

“Call me Newt, Credence, please.” Newt gave him one of his ridiculously charming lopsided grins. 

Credence couldn’t breath the first time Newt did this. Actually. A lot of things Newt did caused the stoppage of Credence’s breath. 

Once, Credence was up in the middle of the night out in the open area of Newt’s workshop, trying to catch his breath. He’d had a nightmare, and now he was having a panic attack, and he was afraid he would wake Newt, which only made the panic attack worse. 

Newt had come out because of course Credence had knocked something over, making even more noise than he would have if he’d stayed in bed. Credence was sitting on the floor, biting his fist to try and keep quiet when Newt stepped out of the bedroom, in nothing but an open bathrobe and a pair of boxers. He had looked around very sleepily, until he’d spotted Credence on the floor. 

He had knelt down next to him and began looking him over. 

“You’ve bruised your knee.” He said sleepily. He looked closer. “And if you don’t stop biting your hand you’re going to…yes, there it is, you’re bleeding, sweetheart.” Newt took Credence’s hand away from his mouth, and yes, indeed, it was bleeding. Credence flinched, tried to shrink away.

“Sorry.” He said. With the fist no longer in the way of his voice, Credence sobbed openly. “Sorry.” He repeated. “Didn’t want to be a bother. Don’t want to be a nuisance-“  
Newt shook his head gently. “You aren’t a nuisance or a bother, Credence.” The Magizoologist sighed. He hated seeing Credence like this. 

Newt stood and offered Credence a hand. “Come on. Up you get. We’ll sit you down somewhere more comfortable, and take a look at you, any maybe you can tell me what you’re doing hurting yourself in the kitchen at three in the morning, yeah?” 

Credence took the hand but didn’t say anything. He didn’t make eye contact. Newt helped him back to their shared room and, to Credence’s surprise, his bed. 

“Sir…why…?” Before Credence could finish his question. Newt was out of the room. Credence didn’t dare move from his perch on Newt’s bed. When Newt came back into the room, he had a steaming mug of tea. He offered it to Credence, who took it, and, sipping, realized it wasn’t tea at all. It was warm milk, with honey and…something he couldn’t identify. 

“Cinnamon.” Newt explained. He looked up into the young wizard’s eyes for a moment. “Credence, talk to me, please?” 

Newt sat on the edge of the bed beside him, waiting for him to talk. In Credence’s silence, Newt looked over his knee again, and healed the bruise. Then on to his hand, which took a moment longer. 

“Had a bad dream…” Credence told him, when he realized he wouldn’t be left alone until he told Newt what was wrong.

Newt nodded. “I suspected as much…Credence, I…” Newt stopped mid-sentence, looking around the room. He clasped his hands and sighed.

Credence winced. Newt was disgusted with him, obviously. “I’m sorry, Sir, it won’t happen again-”

“I don’t know what you thought I was going to say Credence, but I promise you it warrants no apology. Not on your part, leastways.” Newt was shaking his head.

“Sir?” Credence looked confused.

“I thought I had made myself clear.” Newt spoke softly, the way he did to his creatures when they were frightened. “Credence. I am not upset with you. I will never be upset with you for things like this…nightmares, or accidents-” he rested a hand on Credence’s newly un-bruised knee to emphasize. “ –I thought I had – Credence I…I want you to feel comfortable here. Safe. Happy, even, someday, if we can manage it. You don’t have to leave the room when you get upset. You don’t have to try and silence your pain. You don’t need to worry about waking me up, or anything. In fact, I’d prefer it if you did wake me up. I hate to think of you suffering alone.”

Credence didn’t understand, of course. Not right away. It had taken a few more similar occurrences for Newt to really drive the message home. It was months before he was comfortable enough to wake Newt up in the middle of the night. 

Newt’s response was to a sobbing, shaking Credence standing beside his bed was to throw his covers to one side and hold his arms out. Credence had been such a mess that he hadn’t questioned it. Newt didn’t even have to prompt him for what the dream had been about. Another horror show of Mary-Lou, combined with actual memories of pains that no adult should face, let alone the child that Credence had been at the time. 

Newt let him cry until he was done. He spoke gentle soothing words the whole while, holding him close. They fell asleep like this; Credence curled into Newt’s side, Newt holding him tight. 

Credence had been embarrassed the next morning, and not sure what to say. He didn’t try to apologize more than once, though. He had figured out that Newt didn’t like him to apologize for things.

“It’s fine, Credence, really.” He had told him. More months passed. This became easier and easier. Eventually, they just pushed their beds together, finding that having a sleeping companion was more comfortable than not.


	20. Kitchen Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina being Newt and Tina...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Distance – Sam Ock 
> 
> Ali_Summerset – This took me a little while to figure out. Thank you for your patience! Also holy crap I love this song. I’d never heard it before! Thank you!!
> 
> (I know the song wasn't written at this point but I decided I don't care, and put some of the words in anyways.)

When they weren’t around other people, Newt was less shy. Not that he was entirely shy even with onlookers, but he felt somehow safe, when it was just Tina and himself.

It was early in the morning, and he’d already gotten up and fed his beasts. Then he’d decided to make Tina breakfast in bed.

Newt woke up most days feeling pretty good. Today was different, though. It was extra, somehow. Since he couldn’t place where it was coming from, he blamed Tina. So there he was, in front of the stove, frying bacon and humming to himself as he danced around the kitchen. He picked up the kettle which was screaming, ready and full of boiling water. He turned and danced over to the kitchen table, where he poured the water into two mugs.

He placed it back on the stove, then set a spoon in each mug to hold the teabags down to steep. He turned over the bacon.

“If I’m a bird…you are the wind that lets me fly.” He sang under his breath, getting a pair of plates from the cupboard.

“If I’m an instrument, you are the beat that keeps my time…” he was mixing pancake batter and humming.

“When I’m paper thin, you are the story that I write.” A soft feminine voice joined his humming. He whipped around. Tina was leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, smiling at him, still in her dressing gown.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, still holding the whisk.

“Cooking the muggle way?” she teased.

“I don’t know why, but I’ve always had more fun doing this way.” He defended himself, chewing on his lower lip. He stared, “Have I ever told you how absolutely beautiful you are in the morning?”

Tina raised and eyebrow, trying not to laugh. She moved forward and took the whisk from Newt, setting it into the bowl of pancake batter. Then she interlocked her fingers with his, leaning in to kiss him. She pulled away hently, looking up at him.

“What? With my hair all messy, morning breath, still in my pajamas?” she asked him.

“Absolutely.” He replied, leaning in and kissing her back even more deeply. When he pulled away, Tina’s eyes were closed. She sighed happily.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Tina mumbled into his chest.

Newt glanced down at himself. He was wearing boxers and a tee-shirt. “Dance with me?” he asked.

Tina giggled as he spun her around the room. Every few steps they were exchanging kisses. Tina pulled away suddenly. She sniffed the air.

“What is it love?”

“Smoke.” Tina said.

Newt raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware that was a habit you partook in, Tina, but if-“

“No. Newt. Smoke. Smoke. FIRE!” Newt turned around just in time to see the bacon on the stove catch fire.

Newt swore an oath that was very un-Newtlike before trying to put the fire out. When he finally succeeded, he looked down at what was left.

“Charcoal.” He mumbled, sighing. He turned around with the pan in hand to show Tina.

  
Once she saw the stricken look one his face, her heart broke.

“Oh Newt.” She sighed. She took the pan from him. “I’m sorry.

He sighed, going over to the tea. He shook his head. “It’s okay. We still have tea!” he told her, offering a mug. Tina smiled. She was happy, in this moment. Newt was sweet and kind, and all hers. She took the mug of tea and took a sip. She kissed him on the cheek.

“Why don’t we take these and go to Jacob’s bakery? We can get a couple of pastries for breakfast.”

Newt’s smile widened. “Alright!” he made his way to the door.

“Honey.” Tina called after him. He was halfway through the door before he realized. He came sprinting back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Tina giggled.   
  
“What is so funny!?!” Newt gasped, horrified.

“The fact that old Mrs. Swiff probably just saw you in your underwear!” Tina replied, nearly choking on her tea, laughing. Newt set his mug down.

“Oh, that’s funny to you?” he asked, moving forward, a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

Tina was wiping a tear from her own eye, finally stopping laughing. “Just a smidge.” She imitated him, smiling and shaking her head.

Newt reached and took the mug from Tina’s hands, setting it carefully on the dining table.   
  
“You like to laugh, do you?” he asked.

“Newt, don’t even think about it.” Tina said, giving her husband a stern look.

“Don’t think about what, Tina? This?” and he began tickling her. She burst back into laughed.

They ended up in a pile on the floor, laughing together, after only a few minutes, tea forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if I started an ask blog or a fanfiction where Newt answered letters from students/aspiring magizoologists, what would you guys think of that?


	21. Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta is gone. Newt attends a funeral. Who is that strange boy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Hurts - Incubus. 
> 
> Sorry this took so long. I'm on vacation visiting my signifo in South Dakota. This is the first chance I haven't been too sexed up or too busy to sit down to write. 
> 
> I'm going to try and get a few more chapters written tonight so I can just upload them whenever. Maybe a shorter extra tonight thats less sad than this? We'll see.

Newt stood behind a tree, watching the funeral procession. In front were Leta’s parents and sisters, and a young boy Newt had never seen before. He couldn’t be more than eight or nine. The entire Lestrange family was stone faced. They didn’t look like they even cared; they looked like they were bored, really. The only one who was expressing any sort of emotion was the young brown haired boy. 

The boy practically mirrored Newt. They both shook, silent tears streaming down their cheeks. Another similarity between the two of them bothered Newt immensely: there didn’t appear to be anyone there for the boy. None of the adults said a word. Not even Leta’s sisters. 

Someone began to speak. A person spoke dully over Leta’s grave. He did not offer fond memories or kind words. Simply, in summary: Leta Lestrange was a pure blood witch, who should have lived longer. The crying boy was openly and loudly sobbing now. Mrs. Lestrange backhanded him. He shook. Newt almost stepped forward. His heart broke. He wanted to say something. He wanted to do something. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

His sister had told him not to go because he shouldn’t interfere with the Lestrange family. His mother had told him not to go because it would hurt him more. 

His father’s words had been unexpected.

“Closure, Newt. Go. It will hurt. But maybe…maybe this will help you to see theres nothing left there for you.” His father hadn’t meant to be cruel. Mr. Scamander really did love his son. He wanted him not to hurt anymore over Leta Lestrange. He wanted him to move on. 

Closure, though, wasn’t something found at a funeral. How many years had it taken Newt to come to terms with Margret’s death? It’s a trick question. You see, Newt, age 24, still was not over it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get there. He thought of Margret and missed her daily. His work had kept the painful thoughts at bay; those of Margret and even some of Leta’s. But now here he was, at Leta’s funeral. It felt like losing Margret all over again, even though the love he’d had for Leta was different. 

The boy had stopped crying now. He had been knocked to the ground by the force of Mrs. Lestrange’s slap. He was standing, wiping dirt off of his trousers, sniffling. He looked straight ahead, stone faced. Newt’s stomach turned and his heart broke at this. Who was this boy, anyway? As far as Newt could recall, Leta had never married, so it couldn’t be her son. Perhaps a brother? That must have been it…

The funeral went on for a while longer. A few people walked past the grave, throwing flowers onto the casket. Most did not stop or say a word. 

When everyone was gone, Newt moved to the grave and closed his eyes. His tears ran fresh. After what felt like moments, but was hours, Newt felt a hand on his shoulder. He winced. 

“You’re going to become dehydrated and pass out, Newt.” It was Theseus.

Newt looked up at his brother, who was holding out a glass of water, no doubt conjured from this air. The man in the blue coat moved from a kneeling position to sitting. Theseus, deeming it reasonable to put aside his usual propriety, sat down beside his brother. Newt took the glass, if only to get Theseus to leave. 

Theseus did not leave, however. He wrapped an arm around Newt’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Newt.”

“For what, Theseus? That this didn’t happen sooner? That I couldn’t properly attend her funeral? That I came at all? That no matter how hard you and our father tried, you could never make me stop loving Leta?” Newt practically snarled at Theseus.

Theseus didn’t even bother to look taken aback. His brother was mourning. His poor little brother was hurting, his heart aching.

Theseus shook his head and pulled Newt closer to him. 

“No, dear little brother. I am sorry that she died so young. I am sorry that she was never given a proper opportunity to repair your friendship. Mostly, I am sorry that your first love, was not your last.” His voice broke. He hated to see Newt like this. Newt, caring, kind, and trusting, did not deserve such a fate. If Theseus could have done anything for these curcumstances, he would have let Leta live. He would have done whatever he could to help the two stay together forever. Alas, it was not for Theseus to decide. 

Leta’s family had a lot to do with it. But, of course, there is always a point where one has to walk away from poisonous relationships. Even with their family. Leta probably felt trapped, Theseus realized. And he tried his best not to blame the victim. But Leta, letting her liveliness and loving heart be slowly strangled by her family, ha d a good chunk to do with why Theseus caught Newt crying so much.

Newt leaned into his brother and cried. Theseus held his hand. Occasionally he would refill the water glass and tell Newt to drink. Newt drank. It was dark by the time the brothers left. Newt had fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. Theseus took him home and tucked him into his own bed, then went to sleep on his couch. Newt would no doubt be gone in the morning. There wasn’t anything Theseus could do about that. He did the best he could as an older brother, and gave Newt the space he would require.


	22. Many the Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many the Miles – Sara Bareilles 
> 
> Jacob goes the London and turns up unannounced at the Scamander residence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Depression + a great deal of travel = not much work getting done. I hope some of the people following this are still enjoying. Please keep commenting, I really enjoy reading your thoughts! (especially the compliments. They mean a lot to me!)

It was too much waiting. Jacob thought…maybe Newt would come back. Visit, even though he thought Jacob didn’t know who he was anymore.

 

It had been half a year and Newt hadn’t turned up.

 

This was when Jacob decided to leave things in the capable hands of his assistant. He was on the next boat to London. All he took were the clothes on his back and a small suitcase for travel. The boat ride had made him queasy, but he was able to manage just fine. Once he got to London, that was when the trouble had started. He realized, quite suddenly, that he had absolutely no idea how to find Newt. He had never asked where he lived. Which, hey, of course not, he had never expected to visit Newt. Newt probably wasn’t expecting him either. After several hours of wandering aimlessly, he spotted a shabby looking bar. The sign that hung above it read “The Leaky Cauldron”. That was promising…

 

He entered the bar, deciding that even if it wasn’t a lead, it might be lunch. Upon entering, he decided that it was very likely a lead. He approached the bar. He ordered lunch. A stew and some bread, both of which sounded absolutely fantastic. But when it came time to pay for his meal, he realized he didn’t have wizard money. He tried to pay in dollars. The barkeep snorted.

 

“This isn’t even English muggle money.” Jacob stood there looking rather confused. The bartender took his money and sighed, putting it into the til.

 

“You, um. I. Do you know where I might find someone?”

 

“Depends on who the someone is.” The barkeep raised an eyebrow.

 

“OH! Right! Of course! I’m looking for a friend of mine. I met him a few months back, he was visiting the United States to return a thunderbird. It was really cool, actually. It’s name was Frank-“

 

“Frank what?”

 

“I don’t think it had a last name, it was an animal.”

 

The bartender facepalmed. “What was the name of your friend?” he tried to sound polite, and not bored and tired. This guy had to be a squib. Or maybe just a muggle. Bloody hell…probably a muggle. How he’d wandered in here was a mystery to the man...

 

“Oh! Right. Newt Scamander.”

 

The bartender looked at him suspiciously. “You’re friends with Newt Scamander? The Magizoologist?”

 

“Yeah! I mean. He said we were friends. But then I decided not to cause any trouble, cause the President…uh…what was her name? Madam Piquering? Yeah, anyway, I think that was it…she said there were no exceptions and I had to be wiped and I figured, hey I’m just some boring No-Maj, I guess I should just go with it. But it didn’t seem to stick…a few weeks later, everything came floating back to me and I-“

 

There was a tap on his shoulder. Jacob stopped midsentence and turned around. A tall man, who, frankly, looked a bit like Newt, was standing there.

 

He spoke.

 

“You’re looking for Newt Scamander?” he asked.

 

Nope, that was definitely not Newt. Jacob could tell from his voice. It was deeper; gravelly. Not necessarily unpleasant, mind you…just not Newt.

 

“I ah. Uh. Yes. I am. He’s a friend and I-“

 

“I’ve already heard that. I can only assume you’re Jacob Kowalski.”

 

“Yeah. I am. Whats it to ya?”

 

The man couldn’t help but snort.

 

“Come with me.”

 

“You’re not gonna wipe my brain again, are ya?”

 

The man looked aghast. “Merlin, no. I’m Newton’s older brother, Theseus Scamander.”

 

“Oh.” Was all Jacob said. The man nodded.

 

“Well, come on then.”

 

Jacob decided it couldn’t really hurt to trust the man. And what if he really was Newt’s brother?

 

Theseus made his way out, through the throng of people. Jacob followed, his stew untouched and forgotten.

 

They walked a while. Jacob couldn’t keep up with the man’s ridiculous strides. He was worse than Newt. Uhg.

 

After what seemed like hours (but was really only about thirty minutes) they arrived in front of a large manor house’s front gate. Theseus muttered something and the gate opened. He held it open for Jacob to pass, then followed him in, quickly gaining the lead once more. The house looked to be at least a half a mile ahead. What was with rich people and their ridiculously long paths? Also, since when was Newt rich? Maybe his book had sold well…

 

Finally, they were inside.

 

“Wonby!” Theseus called out. Jacob looked around wildly when a cracking sound filled the air. When he looked back, a creature Jacob’s recognized as a house elf was standing before them.

 

“Yes, Master Theseus?” the elf asked.

 

“Please escort Mr. Kowalski to the parlor. Bring him some sort of refreshment. Tea and perhaps some sandwiches.”

 

“Yes, Master Theseus.” The house elf bowed. “This way, Mister Kowalski sir.” The house elf had turned his attention to Jacob now. Jacob, mystified, followed him. He turned back to see if Theseus was with them, but no, of course not. He’d vanished.

 

Wonby the house-elf settled Jacob into the parlor. There was a newspaper on a coffee table. “I’ll be back in just a moment, sir. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

 

Jacob didn’t even have a chance to thank the elf, before he vanished with another CRACK! He decided to pick up the paper and read it. The photos moved. Jacob was momentarily taken aback, but then, just shrugged. “Wizards.” He muttered, before opening the paper and settling onto a couch.

 

Sandwiches and tea were forthcoming. Jacob ate them with much joy and gusto. He left a few, trying to be polite. He realize suddenly that he was very nervous, and maybe it wasn’t a great idea to come all the way across the ocean to see Newt. What if Newt didn’t want to see him? What if he was annoyed? What if this was a bad time? What if Newt was in a bad mood? Oh god. What if he embarrassed Newt? That would be terrible!

 

He heard footsteps. “Whats so important, Theseus? I’m working on an important letter…” _That_ was Newt’s voice, if ever he had heard it. Jacob started slightly. He was rather tempted to hide, but decided against it.

 

“Oh, Newton, I think you’ll like this reason.” Theseus flung the door to the parlor open and waited for Newt to enter. He did.

 

He froze midstep.

 

“Jacob?”

 

“Uh…hiah, Newt.” Jacob grinned widely. It looked more like a grimace. “I uh. Um. Well, everything started coming back to me, pretty quick. No idea how or why but I- and you never came back to visit, not even the girls. So I thought, uh, you know, maybe a little vacation…for me, I mean, was in order and uh, I…here I am…”

 

Jacob had gotten up and started pacing.

 

Newt just kept staring.

 

“I’m real sorry, Newt. I shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t thinking properly, I didn’t mean to intrude on your life and-“ Newt’s arms were around his neck suddenly. Newt was going to choke him. No. No, that was a hug. Newt was hugging him.

 

Jacob wrapped his arms around Newt’s back and hugged him back.

 

“I’m so glad you remembered. I…Jacob. I know we’ve only known eachother for a short time, but you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I…I didn’t want to lose you. But it was your choice and I…I’m so glad you’ve come!” They were still hugging.

 

Theseus, behind them, coughed. “Ahem.”

 

Newt and Jacob quickly let go of one another and turned to Theseus.

 

“Well, I have some work to attend to, so I think I’ll be on my way. Give you two some time to chat. Shall I have Molly make up a room for your friend, Newton?”

 

Newt’s eyes flashed to Jacob. “I…I don’t know, I mean, if Jacob wants to stay, I don’t mind I just don’t want to push the issue-“

 

“Oh, I’d. I’d love to stay. I mean, I’d hate to impose.”

 

“No imposition at all, of course! You’re a friend, Jacob.” Newt had turned back to Jacob, immediately trying to calm his nerves.

 

Theseus rolled his eyes and left the room. He wondered how long it would take the two to realize they meant more to each other than just friends. Perhaps he and Katrina could make a bet on the subject. On his way out of the house, he told Molly to make up the guest room nearest to his little brother’s room. Then he disapperated, heading back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost my list of requests, by the by. So if you were waiting for something, please send it again. And if you weren't, feel free to put in a request. A song title is needed. You can give me other stuff too, I just definitely need a song.


	23. For Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chat between Queenie and Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Not sure how confident I am on this chapter. Enjoy. 
> 
> Song:  
> For Good - Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth

 

 

Two days before Newt boarded the boat to take him back to England, he found himself settled into the Goldstein sisters’ sofa. Tina had left for work that morning, but Queenie had stayed home with Newt.

 

“I never said you needed a baby sitter, Newt. I just didn’t think you’d wanna be alone.” Queenie popped around a corner, pouting at Newt.

 

“You’re getting better at that.”

 

“I’m gettin’ used to your accent.” Queenie told him, beaming.

 

Newt nodded and went back to scribbling in his journal.

 

Queenie bit at her lip, seemingly trying to decide something.

 

“I’m not the legimense here, Queenie. If you want to say something, you’ll just have to spit it out.” Newt wasn’t trying to be mean. He had just been listening to Queenie sigh, on and off, all morning. It was obvious she had an opinion on something.

 

Queenie sat down on the sofa next to Newt. Well, that was mildly unexpected. He scooted back a bit. Not that he disliked Queenie. But she was certainly invading his personal space.

 

“Newt look at me.” Newt looked at her.

 

“You’re gonna see him again.”

 

“What?”

 

“Jacob. Don’t act all innocent. He’s been on your mind all day. You didn’t do him any sorta disservice, you know. And he knew, that if he hadn’t walked away, you wouldn’ta made him get obliviated. You didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have. And he’s gonna come back, you know.”

 

“Queenie…” Newt scratched at his nose.

 

“I know, I know! You don’t wanna talk about it. But if you don’t talk about it you’re gonna just be sad and mopey by yourself and that’s no fun. Come on Newt. Do you really think Jacob is gonna forget all of that. About you? And if he’s gonna forget about you- super interesting magical animal rescuer extraordinaire- How’s he gonna remember a girl like me?”

 

That stung.

 

“Queenie! How could you think anyone would ever forget you? You’re so- so kind, and good! You care about all of your friends so much and you’ve got one of the biggest hearts- if Jacob remembers anyone, it’s going to be you!”

 

They were both a bit taken aback by Newt’s sudden statement. Newt frowned and stared down at his lap.

 

“Newt. You’re incredibly memorable.”

 

“Thanks.” He snorted.

 

“Oh enough with the sarcasm.” Queenie crossed her arms.

 

“I wasn’t being sarcastic, Queenie, just-“

 

“You think the only memorable stuff about you is bad. Newt. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re incredibly compassionate. And- and even if Jacob _could_ somehow have not remembered you, you left him those occamy egg shells. There’s no way he’s not gonna remember you.”

 

“He’ll remember you too, Queenie.” Newt sighed, finally looking up. “You’re brave. Braver than most.”

 

Queenie shrugged, her usual perky smile falling a bit flat. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Its been just me and Teeny since we was little kids, Newt. I couldn’t let her carry her fear and mine too, on top of tryin’ ta make sure I stayed out of trouble. ‘S just been a while since I had to act all that brave.”

 

“Queenie you’re a working woman in a society where that’s a bit…frowned upon-“ Queenie opened her mouth to argue. “Don’t tell me what you do isn’t work, Queenie. You go to work and you deal with those idiot men and fix their issues all day. If that isn’t work I don’t know what is.”

 

“You think so.”

 

“I know so.” Newt replied quickly. They sighed in unison, leaning back into the sofa.

 

“He’ll remember us both.” Newt said, finally.

 

“I’ll owl you. Just as soon as he comes ‘round.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.

“Thanks Queenie.”

 

“Sure thing Newt. Thank you, too.”

 

Newt sat up. “Whatever for?”

 

“For the adventure. For reminding me how tough I am.”

 

Newt smiled weakly. “Anytime Queenie. Anytime.”

 

 


	24. Letter of Leaving Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving is hard. Perhaps he just needs that push.

“I can’t do this.” Newt was sitting on the stairs that led down into the kitchen. How could he just leave his family like this? Take off into the world like a boat taking to the sea? What would Theseus say? What would Katrina do? Poor Katrina, not even out of Hogwarts yet.  

 

Newt paced back and forth in the kitchen, tossing a ripe red apple from one hand to the other and back almost like some kind of meditation.

 

Newt couldn’t let himself get stuffed behind a desk, working the rest of his life away on whatever tedious job his father would get him at the ministry.

 

No. No. He’d have to go. Newt took a bite out of the apple and crept out the back door. The moon still hung heavy and full over the horizon line as he stared into the vast yard. It lit everything up.

 

He began his walk towards the front gate. From there he would apparate.

 

 _‘I need to do this_ he thought. _I need to go. Show them what I can be. What I can do.’_ He paused. ‘ _More importantly, I want to prove it to myself.’_

 

Helping Leta had been a dangerous mistake. ‘ _No; not a mistake.’_ he reminded himself. The mistake had been lying. Taking more credit for the situation than was his. Leta had had a part in it after all. But how could he say so? Without risking sending her back to that hell hole she lived in. Her family home was bad enough on vacations; and that was when she had good marks in all her classes. If she’d gotten expelled, her family would have done worse than ostracize her.

 

 _‘They would have made her life hell. Maybe they would have killed her by accident when punishing her.’_ Newt shuddered. ‘ _Worse yet, if they’d killed her on purpose…’_

 

No. This was better. And really, it was just what he would have done after graduating anyway. He would have had to steal away into the night to live his dream on his own terms.

 

Newt heard a soft crack, and looked around. Theseus was standing in front of him in his night clothes.

 

“Theseus- what are you- er, I’m…this isn’t what it looks like…” Newt fumbled over his words, and dropped his case. The latch sprang open and spilled the contents over the ground.

 

“Really?” Theseus raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 

Newt bit his lip. Wonderful. He’d been discovered.

 

“Because it looks to me like you’re escaping into the night with barely any provisions to god only knows where.”

 

“Um. Well…” Newt twiddled his thumbs nervously. “Alright so- could you just-“ Newt aimed his wand at his brother. He only intended to stun him, so he could get away.

 

“Expelliarmus!” Theseus hissed.

 

Newt’s wand was in his brother’s outstretched hand in a matter of seconds, after that.

 

Newt stared at his brother.

 

“Wow. You were really going to cast a spell at me. You must want to leave even more than I thought…” Theseus was looking at Newt with some sort of expression that the young man simly couldn’t describe.

 

“Yes and obviously you’ve come to stop me. Honestly, Theseus. Did you wake Mum and Da up? I’m surprised you were the first one to find me –“

 

Newt was cut off mid-sentence. “I didn’t wake anyone up, Newton. I was hoping to convince you on my own, but…” There was that look again, on Theseus’s face.

 

“But what? Now you’re going to drag me back against my will? Send a beacon into the sky to summon father?” Newt had tears streaming down his cheeks. He hadn’t noticed until that moment; they dripped down and his hit hands, which were clasped together tightly.

 

Theseus shook his head, sighing. He held Newt’s wand out to him. “Go if you must, then, Newton.”

 

Newt was stunned.

 

“I’m sorry, excuse me…what? I must have misheard you…?”

 

“You didn’t mishear me, Newt. Go. If this is what you feel you need to do…then do it. Go.”

 

“I don’t understand.” Newt said, slipping his wand into a front pants pocket.

 

Theseus’s sigh was far more exasperated this time. “Do you want me to spell it out for you? Fine! I get it! You don’t feel like you fit here. And do you know what? I think I agree- no, don’t look at me like that, like I’ve stabbed you or betrayed you somehow Newt.”

 

Newt did have a rather hurt expression on his face.

 

“You’re my brother and I’d sooner cut off my wand hand then see you leave. You aren’t cut out for boring ministry work though. You’re not born to be a healer, or a shopkeeper either. I don’t quite know what you’re meant for. I suppose you’ll have to find that out for yourself. And if it takes…stealing away into the darkness, no clue where you’re headed, then so be it.” Theseus shook his head again.

 

He held his hand out for Newt to take. Newt extended his own arm to touch his brother’s fingers. Theseus yanked him into a fierce hug.

 

“You’d better come back safe.” He heard his brother mutter. “You had better come back alive. You had better write us, all of us. In time. I will understand if it takes you some time to come ‘round to it. Just. Be careful Newt…and when carefulness fails…”

 

“Be smart about it.” Newt finished for his brother. It was something their father had said to them each year as part of his goodbye speech, when taking them to the train station.

 

Theseus dabbed at the corners of his eyes with his fingers.

 

“I swear on Merlin’s grave, Newton, if you don’t come back here with a fantastically fulfilling purpose I…I don’t know what I’ll do but it will be bloody unpleasant…for both of us, I would wager.” He held his hand out once more.

 

When Newt reached out for it this time, Theseus dropped a small bag into his hand. “Take that. Spend it on some decent parchment.”

 

“There’s more than enough here for parchment, Theseus…”

 

“Then some nice traveling quills, too.”

 

“Theseus.” Newt sighed. A light flickered to life back near the house. Theseus squeezed Newt’s hand closed.

 

“Take it. And go! Before father finds us and you’re stuck at the ministry for the rest of your life Newton. Lord, you’re going to get yourself caught!”

 

Newt nodded.

 

“Be careful.” Theseus said again, obviously gulping back more tears.

 

“I love you too, Theseus. Give mother my best.”

 

The last thing Newt saw as he apparated away was his brother close his eyes and bow his head a little. Then, he was consumed by the twisting weaving patterns of the apparition spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to write this. Suddenly hit with inspiration from part of the Moana soundtrack.
> 
> How Far I'll Go   
> How Far I'll Go (Reprise)
> 
> Theseus is totally grandma.


	25. This Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Jacob's first dance at their wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For DLasagne. 
> 
> This Guys in Love with You - Herb Alpert

Newt accidentally stepped on one of partner’s feet, and flushed for the millionth time that day.

 

“Sorry.” He muttered.

 

“Hey now.” Newt felt fingers drag his chin down. He was pulled into a soft kiss. “It’s your wedding day, you don’t gotta be embarrassed about every little thing.”

 

Newt craned his neck and rested his forehead on Jacob’s shoulder. “I’ve made an ass of myself so many times today. In front of my whole family.”

 

“Yeah I know. You started off by marrying me.” Jacob shot back.

 

Newt stood up straight immediately and looked Jacob in the eyes. “Excuse me?”

 

Jacob snorted, then pushed Newt out into a spin. When Newt came swinging back towards him, not an ounce of grace in him, he was glaring ferociously.

 

“We’ve talked about this Jacob! My family couldn’t be happier that we’ve found one another–”

 

“And we’ve talked about you bein’ overly concerned with how people look at you, Newt. So there.”

 

Newt let out a sigh, or maybe it was a groan, Jacob wasn’t entirely sure. What he did know was that it meant he’d won the argument before it had even gotten going. Good. They didn’t need to be arguing. This was their first dance, at their wedding, after all.

 

Newt rested his head on Jacob’s shoulder again. “I love you.”

 

“Right back at ya, Mr. Scamander-Kowalski.” Jacob took this moment to spin Newt out again, then dip him, just as the song was coming to a close, and kiss him. There was applause around them as Newt stood back up to his full height, cheeks pink once more.

 

“I love seeing you like that.” Jacob chuckled.

 

“Like what? Embarrassed?” Newt asked, pulling his free hand back to mess up his hair.

 

“Not necessarily. Just. When you blush like that.” Jacob and Newt were holding hands and walking to their seats at the main table.

 

“Well good then. You seem to be rather good at- at making me feel that way, so I’m sure you’ll have a great evening.”

 

“Are you _pouting_ , Newt?” Jacob said incredulously.

“What? No. Of course not.”

 

“Yeah you are. You’re pouting.”

 

“I am not.”

 

“Do you really care so much what everybody else thinks of you?”

 

“A little.”

 

“Well stop.”

 

Newt snorted. “It isn’t quite that simple, Jacob.”

 

“Listen to me, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander **_Kowalski_**. And look at me. Right here in my face.” Jacob had stopped mid-stride and was pointing at himself.

 

“What?” Newt was looking his husband in the face, but having a bit of trouble making eye contact. Jacob gave him a moment, and Newt managed it.

 

“You see this guy? This guy-“ Jacob gestured at himself again. “is in love with you. So… so what the hell does it matter what everybody else thinks, huh?”

 

Newt bit his lip, and looked at if he was deep in thought. “You’re right. You’re right, of course you are.” And then he ducked down to kiss Jacob deeply, then pulled away quickly.

  
  
“Ah ah! You don’t get away that quickly you **sneaky little-** “ Jacob pulled Newt back down by his tie and in for another kiss.


	26. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta's shadow follows Newt no matter where he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like. New info has come out about the second movie, and I'm afraid Theseus may be kind of a giant dick. At lest thats what it seems like. So please keep in mind that this is fanfiction and I've been guessing at personalities. There might be a little wishful thinking in there too, haha.

When Newt arrived at his brother’s home in London, he had been terribly upset. Tears were streaming from his eyes. He was crushed; destroyed; broken. Theseus knew that only one thing could have brought his brother to this level. He sighed, and held the door open for his brother.

 

Newt had gone to Leta’s family’s home. He had turned up on her doorstep ready to fight for her life. What he got had shocked him, and sent cold running down his spine. It caused his heart to beat all wrong and his eyes to go wide. She had coldly refused him. Turned him away. Told him she never wanted to see him again.

 

_“I hate you, Newton Scamander. I wish I had never met you. I wish you’d never come into my life!”_

_“Leta…whatever your parents are doing to keep you from-”_

_“They aren’t doing anything Newt! This was my decision! I haven’t answered your letters because I haven’t wanted to!”_

_“But…Parish came back with a broken wing. Surely that was-”_

_  
“Was me! I thought it would send the message a bit better! Apparently your skull is too thick, though! Read my lips, Scamander: I. Don’t. Love. You. I never did! You’re so **annoying** ”_

When her words weren’t enough, she threw a hex or two at him. They might as well have been the cruciatus curse, it hurt so much.

Newt had been inconsolable. Theseus had written the family, thinking Katrina might be able to do something he couldn’t. When she couldn’t lift his spirits, Katrina and Theseus wrote to their mother. Their father was away on business. So, the three siblings had taken the floo over to the main estate.

 

Despite her displeasure with her son’s choice in career (she now knew by his letters that he was illustrating magical creatures for some book), his mother had been more than warm. Leta Lestrange had been a good friend to her son. She had been a possible wife, too, what with her high society parents. She had also been the downfall of her dear boy, she knew. But Newt had loved her, and the revelation that she had never loved him made Mrs. Scamander downright furious.   


She had been ready to storm, ready to rail at her son. But then she saw the boy, and, Merlin help her, she didn’t have the strength. She embraced him like any other mother would have. She tried to change the subject. Talking about this damned woman wasn’t going to do anything to help him, that much was obvious.

 

When all conversation topics were exhausted and Newt had floated back to talking of Leta, his mother had taken him firmly by the wrist.

 

“Listen, Newton. This is what we are going to do. We re going to go up to your old bedroom, which your father and I have not touched, and we are getting rid of everything that belonged to Leta. Everything that she gave you. A ritual burning will make you feel much better.”

 

“A **what**!?” Newt had squawked in horror and protest. But in the end, his mother had her way. All that he had left was a little photo he kept framed in his suitcase.

 

At first, he had to admit, it did feel a little better. Not having Leta hanging over him. But it didn’t last. No matter where Newt went, he felt the shadow of Leta Lestrange hanging over him. He even considered getting rid of that last photo, but realized that later he would want it.

 

The word hung in the air around him; some days it repeated over and over, in her voice. **Annoying.** Had she really thought him annoying? What about all those years they’d spent together? What about everything they’d seen and done?

 

Leta stood behind him in the cue for the bank. Stood beside him when he examined potion ingredients at the market. Laid beside him in his bed at night. Sometimes he would try to shoo the memories away. He’d change tasks, hoping the floating images would leave him be. Sometimes they did. Sometimes, though, her words hung in the air, thick; like some kind of congealed grief that wouldn’t let him breath.

 

Sometimes he would reach out to touch her, and remember too late that she wasn’t really there. Thoughts consumed his waking hours. He dreamt of her often. Eventually, she faded from his mind. The dreams became more and more rare. He’d still try to shoo her presence away on occasion, though.

 

It wasn’t until Porpentina Goldstein walked into his life that he finally managed to rid himself of Leta’s shadow.

 


	27. A Million Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Leta talk dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based entirely off of "A Million Dreams" from The Greatest Show. If you haven't seen it yet you should, it's absolutely brilliant. I cried no less than five times.

“We can do anything, Newt. **Be** anything. Just wait, when we get out of here…” This was the sort of thing Leta said on a very frequent basis. Newt tended to agree with her, being that he was a dreamer, too.

 

Leta reached out and grasped for Newt, lacing her fingers through his. “Tell me about it, Newt? Tell me about everything we’re gonna do. Everything we’re gonna be.”

 

Newt smiled indulgently and sat up a little straighter, looking Leta in the eyes.

 

“Well, we’ll have a house.” He began, only to be interrupted by Leta.

 

“A house? What, like a stationary building? How ever will we travel the world?”

 

Newt rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Well it’s going to be on wheels, **obviously** , Leta. Do keep up.”

 

“We’ll make it bigger on the inside with magic.” Leta told him.

 

“Well of course, because it would have to be small, on the outside, to travel easily. And inside our house we’ll have rooms.”

 

“Rooms.” Leta smirked at him.

 

“Are you telling this, or am I?” Newt asked, staring at Leta and looking a bit put out.   
  
“Sorry, sorry.” Leta put her hands up defensively, then gestured for Newt to continue.

 

“And in these rooms, in our house on wheels, we’ll have many, many things. And creatures.”

 

“Like a demiguise? Hippogriffs and fire crabs and kneazles and jarvies—”

 

“Jarvies? Love, I don’t think jarvies would be a good idea they’re…quite violent, not to mention incredibly rude.”

 

Leta looked up at Newt through her lashes, “Aw come on, Newt. I bet, if anyone could befriend a jarvey, it would be you. Us. I bet we could…”

 

“I am not so certain, I’m afraid.”

 

“We’ll come back to it later, then. Tell me more about our house.” Leta pressed him.

 

Newt smiled fondly at Leta and began speaking again. “Well, aside from all our creatures, we’ll have books upon books.”

“For curling up next to the fire and reading together.” Leta said, tilting her head and beaming.

 

“Precisely,” Newt said, tapping Leta gently on the nose with his pointer finger. She giggled.

 

“And obviously, we’ll have to have a great big parlor.” Leta told him.

 

“Oh, obviously.” Newt agreed. He bit his lip, “Alright but why, actually?” he asked.

 

Leta giggled again. “For space to dance, obviously, silly.” With these words, she pulled him to his feet and began dancing around the common room, smiling. They had danced together enough that, at this point, Newt was not entirely concerned about tromping on her toes.

 

“We’ll have a big garden, to grow things. Fruits and vegetables, of course, but also herbs and fungi, and rare beautiful exotic things. And we’ll leave enough space for the creatures to run around, too.” Newt told her as she led him around the room, humming as they danced.

 

“Where will we go?” she asked.

 

“Egypt, Spain, China, Australia, Sweden, Brazil…wherever we want, Leta, that’s the whole **point.** The world…it’s ours for the taking! **”** He spun her away from him, perhaps a bit roughly. She came flying back into his arms just as quickly as he’d turned her out, and upon making contact, the two fell to the ground in a heap, laughing.

 

Newt pulled them both to their feet again and they resumed a fast paced dance. Leta looked at Newt and resumed her humming. He joined in and for a time they stayed like that, moving slower and slower until Newt led them back to the big comfortable couch by the fire.

 

“I don’t care, if they call us crazy, Newt. You’re right. I’m…this world will be ours. We’ll conquer everything. Every fear, every wish and whim. We’ll do things no ones ever thought to do, and we’ll see things no one has seen before. And we’ll make them see, make the world see,”

 

“See what?” Newt asked, curious. His fingers were laced with Leta’s again as he looked lovingly into her eyes.

 

“Us, Newt. As we are. The world will see us and they’ll see…what we’re really made of. How strong and smart and...and beautiful we really truly are!” A look crossed over Leta’s face, and she opened her mouth, then closed it. “I’ll be right back.”

 

Newt sat, thinking about how he could have managed to get so lucky, and how he’d found someone who loved the things he loved, whose heart was so big.

 

Leta reappeared after a few minutes with parchment, quills, ink, and a large jar. She set it all down on an empty table, and nodded for Newt to come over.

 

“What’s all this, then?” he asked.

 

“We’re going to write down our dreams for the future and put them in this jar. And some day, when we get out of here, we’ll pull a dream at random, and we’ll make it come true.”

 

“That’s…a brilliant idea, Leta. Truly. That’s absolutely inspired.”

 

“Then sit down.” She thrust a quill at him and sat herself across the table.

 

Newt sat and bit his lip. “But what do we write?”

 

“Anything you can think of that you want…or want to happen. Your dreams, your wishes, your hopes and aspirations. For you, for me…for us.”

 

Newt nodded and immediately began scribbling furiously.

 

“Whats that, then?” she asked, looking across the table at him, while she scrawled something on her own scrap of parchment.

 

“Africa.” He said, shaking the small scrap dry and then folding it in half and dropping it in the jar. “What about yours? What’s your first dream?”

 

“A house on wheels.” Leta told him, eyes dancing in the candle light.

 

They went on like this, for some time: back and forth, forth and back.

 

“To see the aurora borealis.”

 

“To climb the tallest mountain.”

 

“To swim with merpeople.”

 

“Talk with a centaur.”

 

“Three headed dog.”

 

“I’m sorry, Leta, what? Three headed dog??”

 

“You heard me. I want a three headed dog. We’ll name him Theodore.”

 

“Well what if it’s a girl?” Newt raised an eyebrow.

 

“Then just Thea.”

 

Newt nodded. “Well, I want to see dragons.” And he wrote that down and stuffed it in the jar.

 

It was four in the morning by the time they began to yawn and stretch. “I think we’re done.” Newt said sleepily.

 

“For now.” Leta agreed. “We can always add more, whenever we think of them.”

 

“Of course.” Newt nodded.

 

“Well there it is…” Leta sighed, looking from the jar to Newt and back.

 

“What?”

 

“The first of a million dreams…for the world we’re gonna make.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be alternating between writing chapters for this and for the new AU fic I just started. College classes are starting anew for me in about a week. I'll try to get a chapter up a week, and let you all know when I have an actual schedule. <3 As always, thanks for the comments, compliments, and everything else. Hope you all had a festive winter holiday!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment song titles and if I end up using that song I'll gift the chapter to you. <3


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